


To Destroy a Dam

by Evancalous



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Developing Relationship, Disapproving Family, Dysfunctional Family, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Family, Fear, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Future Fic, Hesitation, Hurt/Comfort, Internal Conflict, Jealousy, Love, M/M, OTP to end all OTP'S, Ouch, Pining, Religious Conflict, Smut, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-17 15:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 198,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evancalous/pseuds/Evancalous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you scared?” Louis focused on breathing: 'In-out-in-out. This isn’t right. This isn’t even close to being right.' Without thinking, Louis took his left hand and placed it on top of Harry’s.<br/>“Yes.”<br/>__________</p><p>AKA: Louis and Harry are best friends for six years. They lose touch, and sixteen years later, fate collides their paths into each other again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is probably going to be 6 chapters: 3 of Louis' memory and 3 of the present day situation.  
> I apologize in advance for everything love/relationship wise going a bit slow, but each memory is important to the plot and character development.  
> I hope you fall in love with Louis and Harry and their relationship!

One of Louis’ earliest childhood memories occurred when he was four and a thunderstorm was transpiring. Louis' Mom made him hot chocolate in an attempt to soothe him, but each time thunder blasted and lightning struck, he would flinch and the drink would overflow the mug’s dam to create a pond on the hardwood floor.  
“Louis, stop flinching: you’re spilling hot chocolate everywhere.” His Dad ordered, pointing to the small pond. Louis bowed his head in embarrassment.  
“It’s okay, honey.” His Mom kissed him on the top of his head and squatted down next to him with a paper towel to wipe up the spilled drink.  
“Why is thunder so loud?” He asked his parents.  
“It’s just the angels bowling in heaven.” His Mom explained to him. Louis pondered this.  
“Those must be really big bowling pins.” BAM! Another crash of thunder and the hot chocolate pond formed again. Through the baby monitor, he could hear his infant sister wailing. His Mom sighed, wiped up the pond once more, and then left the living room to placate the baby. His Dad was left sitting on his plush chair reading the newspaper while Louis watched some cartoon, still thinking about that bowling game. “Are angels giants in the sky?”  
“Not giants,” The infant was screeching at this point and his Dad sighed and put down the paper to look Louis in the eye, “but big enough to cause giant problems.”  
“Oh.”  
That was the end of the memory.

 

Louis remembers his first conversation with Harry, only because the little boy seemed to intrigue him so much. It was nearing the end of his first month in first grade, and the two were in the same class. Louis had friends because he was loud and consistently asked people to play with him, especially during naptime since that bored him so much. Harry was the polar opposite and sat outside of the class circle until their teacher forced him to join and participate; even then, he didn’t speak much. It genuinely confused Louis.  
It was during recess when he noticed Harry standing in the small space between a large bush and the gate of the playground, looking off at the road. He ran over and slid his way in between bushes until he was next to Harry and the boy didn’t even seem to notice. Louis tapped him on the shoulder. Startled, Harry jumped back into the fence, which pushed him forward and he stepped on Louis’ foot. Immediately he retreated once again and flustered out an “Oops!” as his chubby cheeks grew redder as the seconds went by.  
“Hi.” Harry nodded his head, clasped his hands together behind his back, and tilted his gaze down towards his own feet. He was using his right foot to stomp his left, the one that stepped onto Louis’ foot. Their interaction mystified Louis. “What are you doing?”  
“Ummm…” His voice trailed off. Louis waited for an answer, but nothing was coming out of Harry’s mouth. He got tired of standing by while all the other kids were advancing in their tunnel digging without him. Louis was the one who had the idea in the first place, and he didn’t want to lose credit.  
“You should come play with us! We’re digging a hole in the sandbox to China. It was my idea. We just hit some dirt so I think we’ll be near the lava pretty soon.”  
“Ummm, it’s okay.” Louis was confused.  
“What are you doing here that’s more exciting than lava?”  
“I’m looking…at, ummm, cars.”  
“In the street?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Why?”  
“I dunno. Cars could take you anywhere, and, ummm, someone may see me and ummm, take me away from here.”  
“You don’t like school?”  
“Ummm, I dunno.”  
“You say ummm a lot.”  
“I’m sorry?”  
“I’m gonna go back now. You sure you don’t wanna come?”  
“Ummm, maybe?”  
“Well, if you change your mind, we’ll be there.”  
Harry didn’t change his mind. During naptime, Louis put his blanket next to Harry and laid down beside him. As kids started to drift off, Louis pulled a rock out of his short’s pocket and tapped Harry on the shoulder. Harry’s eyes opened slowly.  
“I found this rock in the sand and got it for you. This is the stuff we’re gonna find while digging to China.” Louis laid the rock next to Harry’s arm. Harry smiled, took the rock in his hand, pulled it to his chest, and closed his eyes. Louis was still confused.

 

Louis once told his Dad that he wanted to marry Spider-Man.  
“Men don’t marry men. You’re going to grow up and marry a woman.”  
“Can boys not be with boys?”  
“No. That’s against the Bible. It’s a sin.”  
“Oh.”

 

They didn’t have a class together again until seventh grade. Harry had considerably grown out of his shy stage and was the first boy in the grade to have a girlfriend. They started talking when they were partnered together for an in-class history project. Before he realized it, Louis was searching for Harry when he didn’t have anyone to walk from class to class with because his friends’ class schedules were different. Then they started eating lunch at the same table; Harry continuously stole food from Louis’ lunch box when he wasn’t looking. One time, Louis captured Harry’s hand in the process, took the chicken nugget back, and then threw it at Harry. Somehow, his aim was off and hit the kid sitting at the next table…which accidentally set off a food fight consisting of both the seventh and eighth grade.  
Whoops.

 

Louis distinctly remembers the first time he went to Harry’s house. It wasn’t a house: it was a mansion. His mom couldn’t find the address at first because the house was set on a hidden driveway. When he knocked on the door, a young lady with blond hair opened it.  
“Hi! You must be Louis!”  
“Yeah.” He smiled nervously.  
“Come in!”  
“Thanks, Mrs. Styles.”  
“Oh, I’m not Mrs. Styles. I’m Harry’s au’pair.”  
“Oh.” 

 

He didn’t ask Harry what an au’pair was, so when he got home he asked his Mom. She explained it to him as “a woman who’s like a full time nanny; she takes care of the kids when the parents can’t.” This seriously confused Louis.  
“Why can’t his parents take care of him?”  
“Probably because they’re negligent.” His Dad murmured under his breath. This didn’t help with Louis’ confusion.  
“What does that mean?”  
“They’re just…” Louis could tell his Mom was struggling to find the proper words, “they’re probably busy.” 

 

“Lou, Lou, Lou, look!” Harry took two French fries and put one at each corner of his mouth, “I’m a walrus!” Louis laughed at the site of his idiotic friend. It was a Saturday and they met up at a burger place. He took one of the French fries from his hamburger basket and threw it at Harry’s face. Harry opened his mouth wide and the two walrus fries fell out while he tried to catch the one being thrown at him; he missed, and there were three fries loitering the table, which made Louis laugh harder.  
“You’re so stupid.” He playfully told Harry.  
“You’re stupid enough to be my friend.”  
“You’re lucky enough to have me as your friend.”  
“I actually caught a leprechaun last year and asked it for a best friend.”  
“And you didn’t share your pot of gold? How selfish.”  
“Sorry. I guess I’m kind of like the crab that didn’t share his gold.”  
“What?”  
“Crabs are so shellfish.”  
“I hate you so much.” Louis rolled his eyes and threw another fry at Harry. Harry squinted his eyes and smiled as the fry bounced off his nose.  
“Hate you too.”  
They went to an arcade after that. Following a vigorous competition of ski ball, which Louis let Harry win only because he hated Harry’s stupid pout, they got a cheap paddleball, a yoyo, and a bunch of candy with their tickets. Harry suggested with the remaining tickets they get Louis’ little sister Lottie one of those plastic rings that light up. That was the first time Louis felt something in his stomach light up.

 

It was during lunch at the end of eighth grade that Louis first remembered feeling jealously. Harry’s girlfriend, Jenny, was shamelessly flirting with Harry while they were talking. Sure, there were other people at the table Louis could talk to, but when Jenny was on the point of sitting in Harry’s lap and feeding him while Louis was trying to hold a conversation with the two, he was ready to punch a wall. When they got up to go to class, Jenny kissed him on the cheek and held his hand while Harry blushed so hard that he looked like a sun burnt lobster. Louis decided he wanted a girl to kiss. 

 

Her name was Rachael. He kissed her twice at the end of the year carnival. Harry was off with Jenny. 

 

“Jenny says that Rachael’s mad that you only went on one date, kissed her, and haven’t talked to her since.” Harry and Louis were just laying on Harry’s king bed, looking up at the ceiling, and talking. It seemed that they could always talk about everything and nothing.  
“I mean, she’s pretty, but when I kissed her, I just…didn’t.”  
“Didn’t what?”  
“Well, like, what do you feel when you kiss Jenny?”  
“Ummm…I dunno. I guess, like, good.”  
“I just don’t really like her like you’re supposed to like a girlfriend.”  
“Mmm.” Silence. This tended to happen during their midnight conversations when Louis slept over Harry’s house. His Dad was usually in another state or country and his Mom always seemed to be at a friend’s house. Louis had only met her twice. Usually it was just Harry and his au’pair in the huge house; Louis found himself sleeping over his house most weekends. He once spent a week there that summer before Harry went to camp. “You don’t like her like you like me?” Louis put his hand on the top of Harry’s mop of curly hair and patted him.  
“Nope.” More silence.  
“Good.”

 

Harry broke up with Jenny a week after that.

 

The first month of their freshman year, Louis joined the soccer team and ended up as a starter on the varsity team. He found himself surrounded by upperclassmen that became his friend on and off the field. Harry always seemed to be cheering on the sidelines; he was more interested in pottery class and choir. During homecoming night, Louis was invited to an upperclassmen party and brought Harry along. Louis forgets how many shots he had, but he remembers Harry had six. While Louis went to get a beer, he met a pretty girl with long legs and flows of wavy brown hair. Her name was Eleanor, and she had on sparkly eye shadow that made her face seem to glow…or maybe that was the alcohol. He remembers playing ping pong with her then she ended up grabbing his hand and taking him to a closet where they kissed; then he was searching her mouth with his tongue and things felt good. Her hands went under his shirt and she dragged her nails from his shoulder blades to the top of his pants. He felt his pelvis buck up into her and she smiled into his mouth. That was when someone opened the closet door and told them to get out.  
Somehow, he found Harry in the sea of sweat and drunken sliminess and they walked back to Louis’ house around 1am. Harry threw up on the sidewalk and then started crying uncontrollably. Not sure what to do, Louis put his arm around Harry’s shoulder and Harry leaned into Louis’ body. It seemed like Harry shrunk in his arms. Louis walked them away from the throw up and sat them down on a dimly lit street curb. Harry wrapped his arm around Louis’ waist and the two ended up hugging. Louis rubbed Harry’s back as he felt a tear pond being formed on the front of his shirt.  
“Don’t…leave…me.” Harry pleaded in between sobs. Louis was confused.  
“Why would I leave you?” Harry’s sobs only intensified after Louis said this.  
“Cause.” A sob. “M’arents.” A larger sob. “daylemmeanndaydunnolubme.” Although he didn’t understand what Harry had spoken, Louis knew what he meant. He noticed Harry’s parents had never really been around, but Harry never talked about it.  
“I’m still here.” Harry’s sobbing died down to just whimpers after a few minutes.  
“I know, but you’ve new friends that’re ollerandcooler than me and don’t throw up when dey drink.” Louis ended up laughing at that. Harry seemed confused and looked up at Louis’ face. His eyes were rimmed red and the green shone out like the brightest star he’d ever seen in his life. The bags under his eyes were a dark blue and his skin a ghostly pale, but his cheeks were so pink like a new flower that had just bloomed. His beautiful curls fell onto his face. Louis took his fingers and delicately pushed Harry’s curls out of his eyes. He looked so pathetically adorable with puppy eyes and an excessive amount of hope pouring out of them.  
“We’re both gonna make new friends, but we’re not gonna leave each other. Besides, my new friends aren’t nearly as loveable as you.” Harry snuggled into Louis’ grasp.  
“Y’kno, you’re the friend dat I’ve had for the longess amounna time. I neva had a friend thats stayed wimme for this long, well, excepmy au’pair, but she doent’ count.” They just sat there for a while and Louis laid his chin on Harry’s head. Louis smelt his hair and became increasingly aware of the aura of vomit on Harry’s body.  
“C’mon.” Louis lifted Harry up by the waist. They snuck into Louis’ house 20 minutes later and Louis gave Harry a shirt and sweat pants to sleep in. He changed into a pair of Spider-Man pajamas, because why the hell not, and they passed out on the couches in the basement. In the morning, Harry said he didn’t remember his conversation with Louis after he threw up, nor did he remember where he put his ‘vomit’ clothes…and he didn’t hold back on mocking Louis’ Spider-Man pajamas.  
They didn’t talk about that night until 3 years later.

 

The Monday morning after the party, Louis felt a hand with long fingernails drag down his bicep while walking through the hallway with Harry.  
“Hey Lou.” Eleanor sang as she strutted by with three other friends. Louis ducked his head down as he blushed.  
“Who’s that?” Harry inquired.  
“Ehm, Eleanor.” Louis looked to Harry for any type of reaction. His face was emotionless.  
“She’s hot.”  
“Yeah.”  
Harry dropped the topic after that.

 

Louis found Eleanor after one of his soccer matches. He asked Harry if it would be okay to take her out to dinner instead of going to Harry’s house that night; although he felt kind of shitty about it, this girl was interested in him. Harry said sure and that was that. He and Eleanor went to Harry’s favorite burger place. Louis learned that she was a sophomore who was a cheerleader for the school and had been part of a dance company for twelve years. They played footsie under the table. He walked her home and they kissed.  
Two days later they were dating.

 

“I don’t wanna go to Winter formal.”  
“What? Why?” Louis and Harry were sitting pretzel style in Harry’s bed eating pizza from the box. It was December 8th, 9pm on a Friday night, 1995.  
“I don’t have a date.”  
“Haz, c’mon. I’m sure El has a friend that she could set you up with.”  
“I dunno, I’d just rather not go.” Louis tapped Harry’s leg with his right foot.  
“Don’t be difficult. You’re a charming young man who any girl would be lucky to have as a date.” Harry bit his full bottom lip. It was a habit he had recently started whenever he was embarrassed or afraid to say something. “You’re so bashful.”  
“I don’t think I could, ummm, like a girl...who I’d just, ummm, met.”  
“You don’t have to like her, just go and then afterwards we can go to the party at El’s and just have fun. C’monnnnn.” Louis started bouncing on the bed.  
“Ugh. I’ll think about it?” The alarm that signaled a door in the house opening went off. Harry’s au’pair was visiting her parents for the weekend, his Dad was in California, and his Mom was in New York at a banquet. Louis and Harry were the only ones in the house. Well, until now. Harry’s brows furrowed and he placed his slice of pizza back on the box. “Stay here.” Suddenly Harry’s voice seemed deeper, almost like a smooth, dark chocolate that moved like molasses as he jumped off of the bed and ran into the hallway. Louis’ heart seemed to be pounding at his chest, like a concrete drill that went on continuously for hours: his skin, fingers, toes, and teeth vibrating.  
What if it was a burglar? It had to be, no one else was home. What if they were robbing the house right now? What if they had a gun?  
What if they hurt Harry?  
Oh God, please, no.  
Louis couldn’t stand it anymore, he ran out of Harry’s room and down the hall. He tried to be quiet, but he couldn’t tell if he really was as his heartbeat was banging on his eardrums. Then, he heard it.  
“Mom…? What’s going on?” Harry was downstairs near the front door. Louis froze in his position next to the portrait of a young five-year-old Harry in a stuffy suit. His smile was a fraud.  
So it wasn’t a burglar with a gun. That was good.  
Good.  
But why was Harry’s mom here…?  
“I, ummm, honey…”  
“Who is this?” Oh…oh. Louis knew what was going on. He ran back to Harry’s room and sat on the bed with eyes wide open.  
Fuck.  
Fuck…fuck.  
Minutes later, Harry came fuming into his room. His eyes were open in shock with nothing but a darkness shooting out of them; his eyebrows were furrowed as though he was pissed off like nothing Louis had ever seen before.  
“Is everything okay?”  
“Let’s go to your house.”  
“It’s a half an hour walk.”  
“I don’t care! I can’t be here anymore!”

 

As they were walking to Louis’ house, Harry stayed silent; still fuming, but he refused to talk. Louis didn’t push it. When they got to his house, they immediately went up to Louis’ room. Harry sat on the edge of the bed with his head hung low and eyes staring holes into his entwined hands. Louis stayed by the door, just looking at Harry with more empathy than he thought he possessed. Louis didn’t bother to turn on the lights. The only sound in the room was their breathing.  
Until Harry started sniffing.  
Then whimpering.  
Then crying.  
Then sobbing incoherently.  
Louis ran over to Harry and held him in his arms. That was all he was capable of doing that night. The phrases that came out of Harry’s mouth ranged from "I hate her" to "she’s a fucking slut who’s never been a mom to me" and then "I just want a real family like yours".  
Louis didn’t say anything that night. He just held Harry as they finally fell asleep in his twin bed after Harry stopped crying: that spoke more than any word could. Harry shrunk then molded into Louis’ body. 

 

Harry stayed at Louis’ house for the entire weekend. When Harry was in the bathroom, Louis quickly explained what happened to his Mom. She didn’t ask any questions. Louis’ family added in another chair to the table and breakfast, lunch, and dinner were all spent together as a family of five. Harry liked playing board games, especially Sorry with Louis and Lottie. They slept on the couches in the basement Saturday night; Harry was silent for the most part. Louis didn’t push it. He just hugged Harry instead and didn’t let go, even as they watched The Santa Claus. Harry didn’t laugh once throughout the movie. He laid his head on Louis’ shoulder and never seemed like he was fully there. Louis put his head on top of Harry’s and they fell asleep like that.

 

Louis’ mom drove Harry home Sunday night. He wasn’t in school the next day. Louis spent the day in nerves. And being followed by Eleanor. When Harry came into school on Tuesday, he was extremely reserved. Louis once again didn’t push anything; he just stayed by Harry’s side. On Thursday after school, Eleanor introduced Harry to her friend Caroline, who he could go to formal with. Afterwards, Harry and Louis were walking to Louis’ locker.  
“What do you think of Caroline?”  
“Dunno.”  
“What don’t you know?”  
“Anything about her.”  
“She’s blond and pretty.”  
“I heard she’s a slut.”  
“Hey, she’s one of El’s best friends.”  
“That doesn't mean she's not a slut.”  
“Stop complaining. I thought you wanted a date to formal.”  
“No, I didn’t! I don’t give two shits! You’re the one who’s trying to set me up!” Harry yelled all of a sudden. He was on the verge of bursting. Louis looked at him in shock, “I don’t care about Eleanor! I don’t care about her best friend! I don’t care! It’s really not what I’m concerned about right now!”  
“Then tell me what you’re concerned about and keep El out of this!” Harry huffed and rolled his eyes.  
“El." Harry scoffed, "You know what? Screw you. You don’t care about anybody except yourself. All you need is your perfect family and your perfect cheerleader girlfriend.” Harry started walking away.  
“What are you talking about? Do you hear what you’re saying?” Harry kept walking. “Harry, stop! Come back!” Louis ran after him and caught his arm.  
“Get off.” Harry hissed as he yanked himself out of the grip and stormed down the hallway, then out of the door. 

 

They avoided each other Friday. And during the formal. Eleanor’s party was composed of the most popular upperclassmen, a ton of beer, a fair amount of drugs, and the air was stuffed like a turkey with raging hormones. He saw Harry shoving his tongue down Caroline’s throat so he did the only thing sensible and shoved his tongue down Eleanor’s throat. Louis couldn’t see the two after a while so he figured that they left. Eleanor kicked everyone out at 2am except Louis, whom she made help her clean up. She took him up to her room afterwards and started fondling him. He had a pounding headache and felt like shit and convinced her to just sleep. He snuck out around 6am, walked home, then fell asleep in his own bed until someone knocked on his door around noon.  
Louis groaned into his pillow. There was too much light in the room.  
“Who is it?” He mumbled. The door opened slowly, and Harry stood in the door frame biting his bottom lip. His feet were pointing inwards, and his arms looked gangly. He looked pathetically beautiful. Louis looked away.  
“Hi.” Harry barely whispered.  
“What do you want.” It was supposed to come out as a question.  
“To, ummm, apologize. If that’s okay?” Louis reluctantly sat up and motioned for Harry to come in and shut the door. Harry still stood next to the door, like he was afraid to come in. “I was a dick. And I wasn’t thinking…I was just, like, mad. And frustrated. I really didn’t mean anything I said to you. Or about you…or, like, ummm, anyone else. And I’m sorry. I feel like shit. Well, everything feels like shit, especially when we’re ignoring each other.” Silence. Well, at least it was reassuring to know that Louis wasn't the only party in this situation who felt like crap. Louis didn't know what to say or how to feel yet. Harry had gone through the extremes in these past few days, lashing out at Louis to showing up unannounced and apologizing. The latter seemed more fitting to Harry's character though, so maybe that was a good sign. The amount of light in this room was starting to give Louis a headache though, and he really couldn't deal with this situation while having a headache. Louis got up and closed the window blinds then sat back down on his bed. Harry was still standing, no eye contact even attempting to be made, and had resorted to shuffling his feet.  
“I wasn’t ignoring you.” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed. “…I was avoiding you. There’s a difference.” Harry rolled his eyes. Maybe that wasn't the best thing to say. They stayed motionless in their positions for a few seconds. Then Louis couldn’t handle it. “Can you come here?” Harry walked until he was right in front of Louis’ bed. Louis patted a spot on the bed next to him, motioning for Harry to sit down. Harry hesitantly took a seat. He wouldn't look at Louis. Instead, he looked down at own his entwined hands with sad eyes. “What’s going on?” Louis whispered.  
“My mom’s been having an affair for about two years now. My parents are getting a divorce and she’s moving out. Well, she already has.” Wow. Okay. His life really was shit. And Louis was an idiot for not realizing that this had been what was making Harry act out of character. He needed to right this wrong.  
“C’mere." Louis pulled Harry into a hug. Harry muzzled his head into Louis’ neck. "I'm sorry I didn't realize what was going on sooner. I feel so stupid."  
"It's okay. I didn't tell you so you didn't know. Sorry I treated you like an ass for not knowing something you had no way of knowing."  
"It's okay." They both let out a sigh of relief at the same time. Things felt better now, which was good because Louis didn't know how much longer he could go if things didn't get better.  
“M’tired. I’ve barely slept this past week.”  
“Stay with me then.”  
“Dad’s coming home tomorrow.”  
“Stay here today then.”  
“M’kay.”  
“M’kay.” They stayed like that for a few minutes.  
“Sorry again.” Harry quietly breathed out. "I missed you."  
“Me too.” Louis responded, not knowing which statement of Harry's he was responding to.

 

Harry spent that summer with his Mom at her boyfriend’s house in Long Beach Island. Eleanor was at a dance clinic in New York City. Louis was a lifeguard at the local pool. One of his co-lifeguards just graduated at their school: his name was Stan. They went to parties together. Louis didn’t drink that much. Stan did. At one of the last parties before he went to college, Stan got particularly trashed and cornered Louis into a wall. He put his hands on Louis’ hips and started forcefully sucking on Louis’ neck.  
“What are you doing?” Louis found himself panting out.  
“What does it look like?” Stan flushed both of their body’s together so they aligned. Louis could tell Stan had a boner when he started grinding into him; he tried pushing Stan off.  
“I have a girlfriend.”  
“We’re just having fun. Relax.” Stan’s hands started moving from Louis’ hips to Louis’ belt buckle and he started undoing it. Louis’ head flew back and hit the wall.  
“Fuck.” Louis involuntarily found himself moaning out. Shit. What was happening? Louis had Eleanor. Stan was a boy. Boys can’t be with boys. It’s a sin. Shit.  
“Relax.”  
“No. Get off.” Louis found the strength in himself to push Stan off. He walked away with his hands shaking as they fastened his belt again and tried to ignore his growing boner. Louis remembers blaming it on the fact that he hadn’t seen Eleanor in two months. That was all it was. Really.

 

Harry came back with a huge hug and stories about all the weird people he met, including his Mom’s boyfriend. Louis spent a weekend at his house. He and his Mom were getting along better than they had in years; however, she was still going to live with her boyfriend in New York. Harry’s au’pair would be taking care of him while his Dad was in Beijing. Eleanor came back and blew him for the first time. It was good. It was right.

 

It was during tenth grade that Louis started sensing things were changing in his and Harry’s relationship. In reaction to every joke Louis would say, Harry would laugh like it was the most hilarious thing he’d ever heard. Sometimes Harry would come up to Louis in the hall when he was talking to someone, particularly Eleanor, and rest his head on Louis’ shoulder. Louis couldn’t help but smile. Harry’s baby fat was starting to melt away from his face, and Louis noticed the adorable dimples he had: that was part of the reason why he wanted to make Harry laugh and smile. The other reason was that he liked making Harry happy. When they were doing homework at Louis’ after school on a Thursday, Harry moped about getting a B- on a chemistry test and had on his stupid pout. Louis hated seeing him like that, so he pinched Harry’s cheeks and said: “let’s turn that frown upside down!” then started tickling him. His dimples showed up and he started tickling Louis back. Somehow Louis ended up on his back in the bed while Harry was tickling him and Louis, in utter incoherence, kicked Harry in the balls. Harry backed up in pain, face scrunched up and hands grasping his groin, and Louis got up. “Shit, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to.” Harry simply gave him puppy dog eyes and said in an old man’s voice,  
“I’ll never be able to have children.”  
“Who needs kids when you have me?” Louis pulled Harry in, both hands on both sides of his face, and kissed him roughly on the cheek. “I’ll give you more love than any kid would.” Louis pretended to ignore the way Harry blushed.

 

"Louis, stop flexing your wrist like that.” Louis' Dad said while watching Louis walk into the house; he had his soccer bag in his right hand and was letting his left hand hang limp with his elbow tucked in to his side.  
“What?”  
“It’s a habit that you’ve recently started. Stop doing it. It makes you look…different.”  
“Oh. Sorry.”  
“Yeah, just don't do it again. How about you invite your girlfriend over for dinner Friday night? Sound good?”  
“Sure.”

 

Eleanor was awkward at dinner. She didn’t know how to talk to Lottie at all like Harry did, always had a fake smile on, and his Mom asked him afterwards if she was sick. His Dad said she was pretty and he was glad Louis had such a nice girlfriend.  
That was the last time he had Eleanor over for dinner.

 

Louis made the goal that won the soccer team’s last game of the season. For some reason, Harry ran down to the field and after being bombarded by the team, Harry ran up to Louis and Louis jumped into his arms. Harry lifted him up and Louis wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist. 

 

“Why did you get glasses?”  
“Because my eyes couldn’t comprehend how you grew ten inches in a month.”  
“I only grew three inches.”  
“Yeah, well now you’re three inches taller than me. I have to bend my head back to look at you. Do you realize how much that strains a neck?”  
“Sorry.” Harry always apologized for stupid things, even when Louis made a joke. It was actually kind of endearing. Harry’s legs had become long and gangly, his hair had grown out so he was continually flicking it out of his face, and his voice was deep. Like as deep as the abyss and full of mysteries and secrets. Shit, that was...a weird thought. He chose to disregard it. They were lying on their stomach’s on Harry’s bed and Harry’s left leg was hanging off of the side of the mattress.  
“Have you ever fallen off a bed before?” Harry laughed.  
“Yes.”  
“Explain to me how you fell.”  
“Ummm, I fell. Out of bed.”  
“You need someone to protect you.” Harry laid on his left side and propped up his head on his left hand.  
“That’s why you’re here.”  
“I guess so. So, umm, El told me something tonight.”  
“Where’d you take her again?”  
“Ice skating rink. She kept asking to go.”  
“Hmmm. What’d she say?”  
“She told me that she loved me.” Harry’s mouth dropped open and his eyebrows furrowed.  
“What’d you say?” Harry bit his bottom lip.  
“I said thanks.” Harry smiled and raised his eyebrows. Then he started giggling. Then he started laughing uncontrollably. He sat up and grasped his stomach, tears coming out of his eyes. “Shut up!” Louis pushed Harry’s shoulder. “She was pissed off.”  
“I’m not surprised.” Louis groaned and laid on his stomach, face in pillow.  
“What should I do?”  
“Either lie and tell her you love her or don’t and just keep things as they are.”  
“I don’t love her.”  
“Not like you love me?” Louis felt Harry’s body lay on top of him.  
“Ouch! Get off!” Harry started cackling. His cackle made the funniest noise.  
“Louis, I need to tell you something.” Harry said in a feminine voice and started tickling Louis’ sides, “I love you.”  
“Stoppppp!” 

 

Louis didn’t bring up the whole ‘love’ situation with Eleanor again. He was walking through the hallways with her and Harry when Eleanor said,  
“Harry, you have such curly hair.” She reached up and started petting his hair. Louis could tell Harry felt really uncomfortable; Louis also started to feel possessive over his best friend’s hair.  
“Yeah, ummm…yeah.”  
“I wish I had it.”  
“Take it. It’s not always this curly and wonderful.” Harry tried to joke. Louis was starting to feel tense by this situation. Caroline waved down the hall to Eleanor. He still didn't know what happened between her and Harry. “Oh, I’ll catch up with you later.” Eleanor took her hand off Harry’s head and ran to Caroline. Louis took this opportunity to wrap his hand around Harry’s ear and whisper:  
“I think it’s always wonderful…and always curly.” Harry’s face seemed to flush into a new shade of red that Louis had never seen in his life. 

 

He remembers the first time he thought about kissing Harry. Ironically, it was when he was with Eleanor. They were at the end of the year carnival and Eleanor was yapping on about something Louis really didn’t care about in the slightest. He started thinking about her mouth instead: plump red lips, always moist and shiny, the way that her top lip was shaped so it looked like a heart, and how her bottom lip was beautifully thick.  
“You know?” Eleanor asked. Louis turned and looked at her, his gaze immediately falling to her lips. That was when he realized that her lips were nothing like the ones he was picturing in his head. They were slender and a shade of light pink, a bit dry and cracked.  
Shit.  
He was thinking about Harry’s lips.  
Shit.  
“Yeah.” Eleanor smiled at his response, leaned in, and kissed him. It wasn’t nearly as fulfilling as he remembered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Much. Angst.  
> It hurts.

Harry spent the summer in Norway since his Dad was managing the BP oil refinery there. Eleanor was once again at the dance clinic in New York City and Louis worked as a lifeguard.

 

The first time Louis saw Harry when he got back from Norway, he looked like a changed man. He didn’t look like the awkward kid who had no clue what to do with his new limbs. He walked with a newfound confidence and wore a cotton green shirt that clung to his body and tight blue jeans. His face seemed as though a Grecian artisan sculpted it: sharp new curves that were chiseled out of marble, but an overall softness and glow. The first thought in Louis’ mind was 'he’s gorgeous'. The worst part was when they hugged. Harry’s hands slung themselves into a knot at Louis’ back while Louis reached up and tangled his fingers around Harry’s neck and felt the tender skin and soft hair there. Louis slotted himself into the space between Harry’s legs and everything felt as though it was meant to be this way. Harry’s mouth was right next to Louis’ ear as his hot breath murmured,  
“I missed you.” This sent goosebumps into a rage all around Louis’ body.  
“Me too.” Louis murmured back.  
To say there were butterflies in his stomach was an understatement.

 

When Eleanor got back a day later, Louis broke up with her.

 

“Why?”  
“Because I just don’t like her anymore, Dad, okay?”  
“Why not? She was a pretty young girl. I think you should still date her.”  
“Is it possible for me to just not want to date her?”  
“Did Harry convince you into doing this?”  
“What does Harry have to do with any of this?”  
“You spend more time with him than anyone else. If anyone is going to have an influence, it’s him.”  
“He’s my best friend; of course I spend more time with him than anyone else.”  
“Does he know that?”  
“Know what?”  
“That you’re best friends?”  
“Yes! I’m tired of doing this: what do you have against Harry?”  
“I don’t think he only wants to be your friend.”  
“Why are you so paranoid?”  
“I’m not paranoid; have you paid attention to how the boy looks at you?”  
“I’m done having this conversation. Don’t talk about Harry like this again.”  
“Like he’s a queer? What happens when you realize that he is?"  
"Nothing because he's not. I'm done with this conversation."  
"I'm trying to help you, Louis. You shouldn't associate with someone like him. He'll deceive you.”  
“I said I’m done with this conversation.”  
“It’s a sin, Louis. He’ll go to hell for it.”

 

Louis did start paying attention to how Harry looked at him. His eyes seemed to widen and light up. They would, at times, scan over Louis’ face very discreetly. Fuck, they were as green as Ireland. His teeth were white and straight and perfectly curved around the inside his mouth. His cheekbones would lift and create those damn dimples. He had a charming freckle on the left side of his face to the side and below the crease of his lip. Shit, even his Adam’s apple was stunning.  
His Adam’s apple? Was Louis really paying attention to Harry’s Adam’s apple?  
Shit.  
Shitshitshitshitshit.

 

Louis tried cutting back on how much he interacted with Harry, but something in his body just wouldn’t let him. He never realized how often he would stroke the boy’s hair, or put his hand on the small of his back when guiding him through the hallway. He noticed how their legs always seemed to touch when they sat down next to each other. He noticed how he would stare at Harry when he wasn’t looking and when Harry caught his gaze, Louis would quickly look away and blush. He noticed how he looked at Harry’s lips more often than he previously thought. He tried cutting back, he really did. It still didn’t stop those damn butterflies in his stomach.  
In fact, they only fluttered more.

 

They were watching Happy Gilmore on the TV that had recently been placed in Harry’s bedroom on a Friday night.  
“Are we okay?” Harry randomly asked in the middle of a scene. Granted, Louis had been more focused on not touching Harry’s hand in the popcorn bowl than the movie, but he wasn’t actively thinking about his relationship with Harry like Harry clearly was. Sort of. Louis’ heart felt like it was being squeezed into juice when he looked over to see Harry with those puppy dog eyes, a pout, and genuine concern and confusion written all over his face. Louis felt guiltier than he ever had in his entire life.  
“Yeah, yeah. We’re fine.” Louis feigned a smile to try and get the pout off of Harry’s face. It didn’t work.  
“Stop fake smiling.” Of course Harry would see through that. “What’s going on?”  
“Nothing. I told you, we’re fine.”  
“Well...you’re not acting like it.”  
“It's fine. It's the same as it's always been." Louis reassured Harry...or maybe he was just trying to reassure himself.  
“No, it’s not. I feel like you’ve been avoiding me ever since I got back.”  
“No…I just…I haven’t.”  
“Yes, you have.”  
“Haz...” Louis laid exasperated on his back. How was he supposed to get out of this one when he didn’t even know what he was doing?  
“Did I do something wrong?” Louis sighed. He quit looking at Harry at this point because his soul couldn’t handle it anymore.  
“No. It’s just...I’m stressed out. With what I wanna do in the future and everything, who I wanna be. My dad has expectations for me.”  
“Oh…like what?”  
“Just to, like, go to a great college, and, like, be rich and, like, yeah.” Louis noticed how much he said ‘like’ when he was lying through his teeth.  
“Oh.” Harry stayed silent. Louis still didn’t look at him.  
“I guess I’ve just been withdrawing because of, like, stress, and I withdrew the most from you.” Harry was still silent. The only noise in the room was Adam Sandler’s obnoxious voice. Louis would rather the silence at this point because he couldn’t tell whether the conversation was over or if Harry was just watching the movie. Adam Sandler’s damn voice was causing so much internal conflict in Louis’ head.  
“Is that why you broke up with Eleanor?” Louis sighed once again, still refusing to look at Harry. He tried to make his face as expressionless as a stone so Harry couldn’t tell if Louis was lying or not.  
“No. I broke up with her because I didn’t want to be with her.”  
“That’s the only reason?”  
“Yes, Hazza.”  
“Oh...” Harry sounded upset. Louis remembers not feeling like having this conversation anymore so he tried focusing on the movie. He tried really hard.  
He ended up falling asleep.

Louis opened his eyes in the dark. The only light was coming from Harry’s bathroom. He saw the silhouette of Harry taking off his shirt and putting on another one. 'Overload. Abort. Abort. Close your eyes.' Louis shut his eyes again. He crushed his eyelids so absolutely no light could get in. A minute later, he felt the other side of the bed dip down and Harry get under the covers. Louis finally opened his eyes and saw Harry looking back at him with melancholy eyes. Even in the dark, he could still find light in Harry’s eyes.  
“I’m not mad at you.” Louis whispered so softly, it could’ve passed for a breeze. “I’m just...confused.” Louis felt Harry put his hand ever so lightly on Louis’ left cheek. His long, sculpted fingers seemed to burn their outline over Louis’ entire face.  
“I know.” Harry retreated his hand and closed his eyes. Louis could still feel the ghost Harry's fingers; his face felt like it was on fire.  
Every. Single. Particle.  
If their feet intertwined that night, neither said anything about it.

 

Harry asked Louis if they could eat lunch outside alone one day. Louis said sure, because why not? They left the cafeteria and sat under an oak tree.  
“What’s up?” Louis asked while taking a bite of his turkey and cheese sandwich. Harry had yet to touch his food.  
“My, ummm, my,” Harry paused and took a deep breath. Louis was getting extremely nervous for what he was about to say. His stomach was forming boat knots. “my Mom’s pregnant.” Louis paused chewing.  
“Oh.” He said with a full mouth.  
“Yeah.” Louis swallowed.  
“When did you find out?”  
“This morning, actually.”  
“Oh…how old is your Mom?”  
“Ummm, thirty-seven. She had me when she was twenty-one and my Dad was thirty-eight.”  
“Wow.”  
“Yeah.” Harry bit his full bottom lip and started picking at the grass. What did this boy do that wasn’t endearing?  
“How are you feeling?”  
“Dunno. I mean, like, it’s good and all, I guess. It’s just, it’s no secret that I never really had the best relationship with her.” Louis didn’t say anything to that, he didn’t feel like it was his place to intercept; he just nodded because it was true. “I guess when she had me, she didn’t, umm, know...like, how to have a kid. And I know that my parents didn’t plan on having me. My Mom worked at a diner and my Dad went there for dinner; he thought she was cute so he left his phone number on a napkin and they started dating. My Dad got promoted to the executive branch when they found out she was pregnant with me, then they eloped. Neither of them were ready. I’ve had five different au’pairs in my life…they raised me more than my parents did.” Louis took this as his cue to reach out and hold onto Harry’s ankles. He started rubbing little circles into them with his thumbs. Somehow, he thought that it soothed him more than it did Harry. “So, like, on one hand I hope that she and her boyfriend raise the kid better than she did me. And, ummm, like I hope that she’s there for it. But on the other hand, umm, if she is there for it...I dunno. I just feel like I’m gonna be jealous." Harry critically laughed at himself. "And that makes me feel like crap for being jealous of an unborn human being.”  
“You have the right to be jealous, Hazza. Your mom may not have been there as much as she probably could’ve been, but every parent has their own special way of telling their kids that they love them.” Harry sighed and looked into Louis’ eyes as if he was trying to hold back every emotion that he’d ever built up towards his parents in the past sixteen years: love, anger, neglect, disgrace, loneliness, abandonment, and hope. It was too much for anyone to handle, least of all the fragile and beautiful feelings of Harry.  
“I never really felt like that with mine though. Like...I just think that she’s gonna end up loving this kid more than she ever loved me.” Harry hung his head to the ground as if he was ashamed of this admission. It looked like he was holding back tears; they were about to overflow the dam of his eyelids.  
“Oh, Haz...c’mere.” Louis pulled Harry into a tight hug by wrapping his arms around Harry’s whole body. Harry didn’t wrap his arms around Louis; he laid his head on Louis’ chest and used both hands to grasp onto Louis’ shirt like if he let go the ground beneath them would crumble.  
“You’re the best family I’ve ever had.” Louis couldn’t help but kiss the top of Harry’s head then as he was trying to hold back tears. Harry had already let his tears loose.  
Louis remembers: that was the first day he’d ever truly understood what the word ‘love’ meant.

 

Sunday mornings had always been spent at Church services with his family. Louis never particularly disliked going, he just felt that he had better things to do than eat the body of Christ and drink his blood then listen to sermons for an hour with some songs shoved in between them. Usually he'd tune everything out and imagine what it'd be like to still be asleep at 8am on a Sunday.  
Now, though, Louis started paying attention to the sermons. He'd known his pastor for years and always found him to be kind and animated. He made Sunday school entertaining when Louis was a kid by handing out candy to people if they participated; he didn't even need to answer a question correctly to get free candy. It was possibly one of the best set-ups for a nine-year-old. However, when Louis really began to listen to the words coming out of his mouth, he couldn't help but think he was listening to a car dealer. It was like hearing to someone trying to sell him a ticket to Heaven.  
He didn't want to be a part of an infomercial for a product he wasn't buying.

 

Harry spent the first four days of Winter Break at Louis’ house. The first day, Harry told Louis he’d never been ice-skating before. Louis dragged him to the rink and forced him to put on skates. He ended up lacing Harry’s skates.  
“M’gonna fall on my face.” Harry bit his bottom lip and looked like he was about to throw up.  
“You’re not gonna fall.”  
“Yes I will.”  
“Oh my God, Harry, calm down.” Louis stood up and took both of Harry’s hands. “I’ll hold on to you, okay? If you fall, so will I.” Harry reluctantly nodded and Louis tugged his hands to get Harry to stand up. It was as though Harry was a newborn baby deer who didn’t know how to stand up or walk. Lanky, uncoordinated, and gawky, Harry took two minutes to walk the five steps to the rink, even with Louis holding onto his waist. When he stepped on to the ice, his legs went flailing and Louis had to use all of his strength to pull Harry to him. “Stop trying to walk! You need to glide. Keep your feet on the ice.”  
“M’trying!” Louis was skating backwards while holding both of Harry’s hands as Harry gracelessly tried to come towards Louis.  
“You can bend your knees.” Harry did as he was told, “Okay, now try pointing your feet out then point them back in so you make an ‘O’.”  
“I dunno…”  
“Just try, Curly.”  
“Curly?”  
“Would you rather me call you Curlpunzel or Curlylocks?” Harry’s smile lit up the entire building, Louis swore on it.  
“Curlylocks is kinda charming.”  
“You’re charming enough.” Harry bit his bottom lip, trying to hide a smile, and pointed his toes out. His legs started separating from each other, “Good, point them in now.” Harry tried picking up his right foot to point it in, but he skid the front of the blade on the ice, thus tripping over himself and toppling over Louis, sending them both onto the ice; Louis was on his ass and Harry was lying on top of him.  
“Owwww!” Louis cried out while laughing, “My ass!” Harry was in hysterics. “Stop laughing and get off you big lump of limbs.”  
“This was your idea.” Harry beamed at Louis.  
“Don’t remind me.” Louis looked up fondly at Harry. His eyes radiated sparkles of bright white light. He really was gorgeous. Harry tried getting up, but fell down on his knees with no avail. It seemed like every tiny thing Harry did was more captivating than what he did the minute before.

 

Louis and Harry sat side by side on the couch in Louis’ basement, sharing a blanket. The left side of Louis’ body was lined up with the right of Harry’s, inch for inch. They were drinking hot chocolate, courtesy of Louis’ mom, while watching Rudolph.  
“My favorite character is Charlie in the Box.” Leave it up to Harry to pick a random character as his favorite. It made Louis chuckle.  
“Why?”  
“He’s the sentry for the misfit toys. He also has a lot of heart. When he says ‘looks like we’re forgotten again’, I just wanna take him home and tell him he's not forgotten.” Louis remembers thinking, 'Yep. Harry’s the most loveable person in the entire world'.

 

The next day, Louis, Lottie, and Harry decided to make gingerbread men. Harry had never made them before, so it was a bit of an experiment on his part. After putting flour on the dough so it wouldn’t stick to anything it wasn’t supposed to stick to, Harry rubbed his nose. Lottie started laughing.  
“You have flour on your nose.” Harry went wide-eyed like a deer in headlights, as if he didn’t understand.  
“You’re Rudolph the white-nosed reindeer.” Louis explained to him.  
“Oh.” Harry smiled and wiped his nose with his already powdered hand.  
“Now you have white cheeks.” Louis laughed at him. Lottie giggled as she handed Harry a towel. Harry wiped his face with it. It had flour on it so his whole face was now white. “Oh my God, my sister really is a Tomlinson.” Lottie and Louis were in hysterics as Louis high-fived her.  
“I’m being attacked by my best friend and his little sister.”  
“Yep.” Lottie said proudly.  
“You should probably stop while you’re behind. It’s two against one right now. We don’t need any anarchy.” Harry fake-pouted with a smile on.  
Lottie rolled out the dough; her favorite cutout mold was a snowman. Louis’ favorite was a stocking. Harry’s was a reindeer. At one point, Harry completely destroyed one of his reindeer while trying to put it on the oven tray, so he ended up rolling it into a ball and eating it.  
“Don’t eat the dough!” Louis cried out. Harry paused, with the dough next to his huge open mouth. He looked at Louis, white-faced.  
“Why?”  
“Because it has egg in it and when it’s not cooked, it can make you sick.”  
“Then why is there chocolate-chip cookie dough ice-cream?” Lottie asked.  
“Well…I, ummm, I dunno, but –”  
“Just eat it, Harry.” Lottie said as she ate some of the dough. Harry smiled fondly at her. If this made Louis a bit envious deep in his stomach, he tried not to let it show.  
“Lou, I think I’m gonna leave you for Lottie.”  
“It’s about time.” Lottie mischievously smiled.  
“How dare both of you!” Louis pretended to give both of them a cold-shoulder while he placed one of the complete trays in the oven.  
“Oh c’mon Lou, we’re just playing.”  
“Yeah. Harry, you would never leave Lou, would you?”  
“Nope, never.” Louis looked at Harry and couldn’t help but smile affectionately at the boy with big doe-eyes and a goofy lopsided smile.  
After all the trays were out, Lottie had gone off to watch TV while Harry and Louis cleaned up. Louis washed the dishes then handed them to Harry to dry; he noticed Harry was humming the Macarena.  
“Really? The Macarena?” Harry giggled.  
“HEYYY MACARENA!” He then slapped Louis on the butt with his towel as Louis handed him the last dish. Louis giggled as he went to take the cool cookies off of the dry and on a plate.  
“Stoppppp, you’re embarrassing yourself.” It was quiet while Louis placed the cookies onto the plate; they turned out pretty well, only five out of thirty were burnt. That was when he felt a hand smack the top of his head and flour came pouring down onto Louis’ hair, face, and shoulders. Harry cackled,  
“Now this is anarchy.” He whispered with warm breath into Louis’ ear. Louis couldn’t help but laugh at his misfortune.  
“You dick!” He slapped Harry on the bicep.  
“Good evening. Louis. Harry.” Louis immediately backed up two feet from Harry like it was a reflex to the voice.  
“Hi, Mr. Tomlinson.”  
“This is a nice site to come home from work to. Never up to any good, are you two?”  
“Sorry, we were just leaving. C’mon, Harry.”

 

The third night, dinner got awkward. Louis and Harry sat on one side of the table, across from Lottie, and Louis’ Mom and Dad sat at either head of the table.  
“Can somebody pass me the salad?” Louis’ Dad asked. Harry didn’t hesitate as he picked up the salad bowl and gave it to Louis’ Dad. “Thank you.”  
“You’re welcome.” Everybody was eating at this point, so it was understandably quiet.  
“So Harry,” Louis’ Dad started, “anything new in your life?” Harry swallowed whatever he was eating.  
“Ummm, no, not really.”  
“Nothing? Junior year hasn’t killed you yet?” Harry sweetly chuckled.  
“I’m still here.”  
“Yes you are…” Louis could tell that his Dad had a second meaning by that.  
“Is it true that Junior year is the hardest?” Lottie asked.  
“I mean, every year is the hardest when you’re in it.” Lottie blushed at Harry’s response. If he didn’t know any better, Louis would guess that Lottie had a crush on him. Oh, puppy love.  
“Where are you thinking about applying to college?” Louis’ Dad asked. This sort of sounded like an interrogation, not a debriefing. Louis and Harry made brief eye contact.  
“Ummm, I’m not really sure yet.”  
“You know what you want to do?” Harry paused,  
“I'm looking into medical schools. I think being a doctor would be great.”  
“Doctor, really? My wife is a nurse.”  
“Harry, you don’t want to be a doctor. You’ll never be home.” Louis’ Mom told him.  
“I mean, I wouldn’t really mind.” Louis thought of the meaning behind that and felt like his heart was being pulled like a puppet on strings. He tapped Harry’s foot with his own. Harry looked at him quickly and smiled, “I just like helping people out. Especially when they’re sick.” This was true. When Louis was sick at home last month, Harry somehow ended up at Louis’ house after school and stayed there until it was about to be too dark to walk home.  
“So did I. Then I had two kids.”  
“Hey!” Lottie and Louis said simultaneously. Louis’ Mom laughed.  
“I’m kidding.”  
“So, Harry, do you have a girlfriend?” Louis’ Dad asked. Lottie’s head suspiciously popped up.  
“Ummm…no.” Harry said as though he was humiliated. His cheeks grew pink.  
"Have your sights on any girl at the moment?” Louis shot his Dad a death glare. His Dad pretended not to notice.  
"Ummm, not particularly.”  
“Oh.” Louis’ Dad said. It was no secret that he was judging Harry. Louis took this opportunity to covertly sneak his left hand onto his lap and meander its way onto Harry’s right thigh; he brushed his thumb up and down.  
“He’s being modest. The entire female population at school constantly flirts with him. He could get a girlfriend whenever if he wanted to.”  
“Is that so?” His Dad wasn’t buying it if the monotone voice and the squinting eyes were anything to go by, but it seemed to make Harry feel a bit better; he tapped Louis’ hand as if to thank him.  
“Yeah.” Louis answered for him. His Dad was in the middle of cutting his steak.  
“But you don't currently have one, nor do you have your sights set on any one, correct, Harry?”  
“Not at the moment.” Louis rushed in.  
“I asked Harry, not you.”  
“Umm, yeah.”  
“I just wanted to clear that up.”  
“Well now it's clear.” Louis harshly responded to his Dad. Everyone fell silent.  
God, what was he doing?  
What were they doing?

 

That night Louis started rolling around. He absolutely hated sleeping on those couches; they were intolerable after one night, and his back was always in a crick the next morning. He sighed and looked over at the other couch. Harry was in fetal position with the blanket tucked in under his feet and held up to his nose. His breath slowly raised his body up and down. Louis wanted to be the air so Harry could just breathe him in.  
Shit.  
The air?  
What did that even mean?  
“Hey, Haz.” Louis whispered. Harry didn’t move. “Harry.” He spoke at an audible noise level. Harry shifted in his sleep and whined a bit. He was adorable. “Harry, are you up?” Harry whined again and opened his eyes slowly.  
“I am now.” He said with a cracked voice. Fuck, that was attractive. Louis swallowed the lump in his throat.  
“I’m not comfortable. Are you?”  
“Mmm, not really.”  
“Wanna go sleep in my room?”  
“Sure.” Louis shut off all rationality in his mind. The voice yelling 'what are you doing?!?' was turned off as Harry got up, still wrapped around in the blanket, and started walking with Louis upstairs very quietly. Louis got a look at the clock that said it was 1:11am. Hopefully his Dad wouldn’t wake up.  
Shit.  
His Dad.  
If his Dad looked downstairs in the morning before he left for work just to see that they weren’t there, he’d check Louis’ room. It’s not like they were about to do anything bad. It was just…well it could turn out badly. Hopefully his Mom and Dad would just leave for work before checking anything.  
When they got up to Louis’ room, Louis very softly closed the door and locked it.  
Just for precaution. That was all.  
Harry had put the blanket he was burritoed up in on the top of the bed sheets and got under them. Louis only had a twin-sized bed. He stood hesitantly next to it until Harry’s gaze settled upon him.  
“This is your bed, not a hoax.”  
“I know…maybe I should just sleep on the floor though?”  
“Stop being stupid and get in.” Harry moved next to the wall so half of the bed was free. He remembers thinking to himself: 'It’s the middle of the night, that’s my bed, and I want to sleep. Just get in, Louis.' Louis did finally get in. He faced the way of his room so he and Harry didn’t have to look at each other. Louis felt Harry’s body heat exuding onto his back and Louis’ breathing got faster. They were sharing a pillow. “Can I ask you something?” Harry whispered.  
“Yeah.”  
“How religious are you?” Oh.  
“Ummm, well my parents are both very Christian – ”  
“I didn’t ask about your parents, I asked about you.”  
“I went to Sunday school for eight years when I was younger.”  
“Lou.” This sounded like a plea being breathed onto the back of Louis’ neck. Louis sighed, clearly defeated at this point.  
“I grew up with religion. My Dad is…well, I think you know how he is. I’d like to believe in a God, but I don’t know how much of the Bible I believe in. I love most of the messages, like ‘love thy neighbor’ and that type of stuff. But there’s a lot of hate too.”  
“Sometimes it’s nice...to believe something is out there helping us, so we don’t feel so...alone.”  
“Yeah.” Silence. Louis could hear the soft in and out of Harry’s breath. The back of his neck was getting very warm; Louis had a feeling Harry was extraordinarily close to it.  
“Do you feel alone?” Louis didn’t even have to think about his answer.  
“Not when I’m with you.” Louis heard Harry adjusting himself quietly. Harry’s left hand winded its way ever so delicately to sit midway on Louis’ side. The warmth of his hand scalded through the fabric of Louis’ shirt.  
What was happening?  
“Are you scared?” Louis focused on breathing: 'In-out-in-out. God, this isn’t right. This isn’t even close to being right.' Without thinking, Louis took his left hand and placed it on top of Harry’s.  
“Yes.” Harry arranged their hands so their fingers intertwined with each other.  
Neither one spoke anything else that night.  
Louis remembers he stayed up wide-eyed and full of apprehension for at least half an hour before he found it in himself to relax and doze off. He prayed before giving himself over to the warmth and comfort of sleep: 'Dear God, please forgive me.'  
Their hands didn’t let go the entire night.

 

The two boys went up to Louis’ room to get Harry’s stuff before Harry’s Dad came to take him home.  
“So, I, ummm, got you a birthday present. I know it’s in three days, but I won’t be with you then so…yeah.” Harry pulled out a wrapped box from his satchel.  
“I thought we said no birthday presents?”  
“Yeah, well…I got it from Norway so…I figured, it could be an exception?” Louis couldn’t help but smile at his idiotic best friend.  
“I will only make an exception because it’s you.”  
“’Kay, good...because I can’t really return it.” Harry handed over the box to Louis. It was wrapped in Snoopy wrapping paper.  
“Snoopy?”  
“Shut up, it was all I could find at the dollar store.”  
The gift was a bone-colored knitted sweater. Louis could tell it was handmade.  
“Wow.”  
“Yeah, I had it made just for you. Look at the inside of it.” Louis did as he was told. Where the label was supposed to be, he saw engraved in white thread ‘Louis’.  
“You got my name put in it?” Harry bit his bottom lip and ran a hand through his hair.  
“Ummm, yeah. It was this sweet little old lady; she made it all in, like, a week.” Louis ran his hand over the engraving.  
“Wow…”  
“If you don’t really like it, it’s okay, you don’t have to pretend –”  
“Harry.” Louis put his hand on Harry’s bicep. “It’s wonderful…” Harry’s cheeks reddened and he bit his bottom lip to try and conceal his bashful smile: his dimples still shown. “…you’re wonderful. Thank you.”  
“Yeah…” The eye contact between the two of them seemed to be too much for Louis to handle. He started to look at Harry’s eyes in detail and noticed that the area surrounding his pupil was a hazel green, outside of that the color was a jadeish emerald, and the boundary of his irises was a deep blue. His eyelashes were thicker on the top, but they were spread out just as evenly as they were on the bottom.  
Louis coughed, looked at the ground, and retreated his hand back to his side.  
The tension in the room’s air was unbearable.  
“You have everything?” Harry started to shuffle his feet.  
“Ummm, yeah.”  
“Okay.”

 

Harry’s Dad was a big, tall, raven-haired man wearing a gray suit.  
“You’re Louis?”  
“Yes, Sir.”  
“Nice to finally meet you.” He held out his immense, brawny hand, and Louis shook it. His grip was sturdy and secure, even if it felt like it was cutting off all circulation in Louis’ hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you…a lot.” Louis blushed, withdrew his hand from the shake, and looked over at Harry who was, predictably, biting his bottom lip.  
“I hope that they were good things.” Louis feigned a laugh.  
“Actually, Harry’s told me that you’re a heroin addict.”  
“No, I didn’t.” Harry rolled his eyes.  
“I’m just playing around. Thanks for taking in this curly-haired monster. I hope he didn’t clog the shower drain.”  
“Nah. He’s always perfect.”  
“Perfect. Wow. Hear that, Harry? You’re perfect.”  
“C’mon, Dad. Happy holidays, Lou.”  
“Have a good holiday, Louis!”  
“Thanks, you too!”  
As Harry and his Dad were walking to their car, Louis could’ve sworn he heard,  
“He thinks you’re perfect.”  
“He was just being nice to you.”  
“To me? More like you. Do you wanna invite him to the New Years party?”  
“Please, Dad, drop it.”  
Lottie ran next to Louis’ side.  
“Is Harry leaving?” She asked frantically.  
“Yep.”  
“BYE HARRY!” Lottie shouted. Harry looked back at the two standing side by side. He beamed at the sight, dimples and all.  
“Bye Lottie! Have a great Christmas!”  
“You too!”  
If Harry’s eye contact with Louis lasted a bit too long before he got into the car, Louis pretended not to notice.  
But it was hard not to notice.

 

Louis wore the sweater on his birthday.  
“New sweater, Louis?”  
“No, Dad, I actually bought it a while ago.”  
“Funny. I don’t recognize it.”  
“I've never worn it before.”  
“You’re awfully defensive about it.”  
“No, I’m not. It’s just a sweater.”  
“Alright.”  
That was the last time he wore the sweater…in front of his Dad.

 

Harry got his license the first week of January, 1997. His Dad bought him a 1996 black Camaro, and Harry was officially his ride to and from school. He always seemed to have an Oasis tape playing.  
Louis remembers the night Harry drove him home after SAT class. 'Wonderwall' was playing.  
“I think I’m gonna die.”  
“You’re not gonna die.”  
“Yes, I will, because I’ll do bad on the SAT’s, go to a horrible college, not be able to find a job, live homeless on the street, and then I’ll starve to death and die.”  
“Have you ever considered being an actor? Because you are possibly one of the most dramatic people I’ve known in my entire life.” Louis rolled his eyes and looked over at Harry.  
“Haz, you have the extraordinary honor of knowing me. You should feel bad for the people that will never get to know us.”  
“Not this again.”  
“No, just think about it. There are billions of people in this World. We’ll probably meet less than 1 percent of them. Granted, we’ll see, like, more than 1 percent, but still.”  
“So...I’m apart of that 0.8 percent that you’ll meet?”  
“You’re apart of the 0.0000001 percent that I’ll actually like.” Harry cackled.  
“I guess I am honored, then.” Harry pulled over to the curb and put the car in park outside of Louis’ house. The two of them just looked at each other, eye contact not breaking.  
“Thanks for the ride.”  
“Anytime.”  
“I guess…I should get my stuff. It’s in the back.”  
“M’kay.” Louis unbuckled his seat belt and moved slowly towards Harry so he could position himself to hop over the armrest into the back. That was when he noticed that Harry was leaning towards him and, oh shit, was he looking at Louis’ lips? Were his lips pucking up? Why was Louis looking at Harry’s lips?  
Shit. Shit. Shit.  
Louis dove headfirst into the backseat. Harry immediately retreated into his seat. Louis couldn’t see what Harry’s face looked like; he grabbed his backpack and opened the door,  
“See you.” Louis didn’t notice how much he was shaking and his electric pulse until he talked and the words came out like somebody put his voice box into a blender. He shut the door and didn’t look back. Harry didn’t wait until Louis got to the front door; he just drove off.  
Louis tried putting his key into the door’s lock but his hand was quivering so much and he couldn’t think or breathe or do anything right. Nothing. He could do nothing right.  
His Mom opened the door for him.  
“Hi, honey.” Louis tried smiling but his muscles weren’t working, “Are you okay?” Louis got up enough strength to humm a “mhmm” and then run up to his bedroom and slam the door shut and lock it and drop his bag on the floor and pace around his room like a maniac and fumble with his hands and then drop head first on to his bed.  
Harry was going to kiss him.  
Harry was going to kiss him.  
Harry was going to kiss him.  
Harry was going to kiss him.  
Harry was going to kiss him!  
Fuck.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So good and bad news.  
> Good: remember that time I said this would be 6 chapters? Hah. Nope. It's looking to be 12 now. Yay, more in detailed story telling!  
> Bad: 12 chapters means it'll be a while for me to update this...  
> But it's okay because we're in the thick of it now! I'm going to try and update every 3-5 days at the latest.
> 
> Anyway, I've only ever been to Church a few times in my life so forgive me if my information is a bit inaccurate.
> 
> Enjoy!

Louis remembers thinking that the next day at school was possibly one of the worst days of his life. Well, it definitely was at the time. For the entire day, Louis’ stomach was on the verge of leaping, jumping, skipping, hopping, and bouncing its way up and out of his throat all at once. Harry was clearly avoiding him, and Louis was doing the same. They didn’t say anything in the car to each other; the only sound was Oasis blasting at a high enough noise level that any words that came out of either of their mouths couldn’t have been heard. At lunch, Harry did try and make small conversation with Louis at first, but Louis couldn’t look him in the eyes. Too many thoughts. Not enough time. Not enough toleration.  
As they were walking out of their last period World history class, Louis told Harry he was going to walk home.  
“You sure?” Harry was genuinely concerned: another reason Louis couldn’t look him in the eyes.  
“Yeah.”  
“Ummm…okay.”  
“Alright. See you.”

 

Louis went to Church instead of going home. He sat in the very last pew and opened the Bible sitting in front of him; he wanted to read it for himself that 'Man shall not lay with Man'.  
The Bible didn’t actually say that. Really, one of the only things Louis could find in the New Testament was in Corinthians 6:9-11: “Or do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God.”  
'Ok,' Louis thought, 'so men who are gay go to Hell.'  
Hell: it’s full of prostitutes, thieves, adulterers, and murderers.  
How the Hell were gay people on the same level as those people?  
Is Hell really so bad?  
Wait, yes. It’s Hell.  
But who could prove that Hell exists? And, if there was no proof of Hell, who could prove that Heaven exists? Why had Louis blindy accepted that there was a Heaven and a Hell without any true evidence of their existence? Why hadn’t he ever thought about or questioned this before?  
What did Harry believe in?  
Shit. Harry. The reason he was here.  
Louis went into prayer mode. He looked at the Jesus statue on the cross and the stained glass window it was in front of: the nativity scene with God overlooking it. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes and sigh.  
‘In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, Amen.  
Dear Lord, I don’t know what to do right now. Lets say that I’m ninety-nine percent sure that my best friend tried to kiss me yesterday. I didn’t really realize what was going on until afterwards, so I’m not at fault. Well, maybe I am. I don’t know. I think I may have been inadvertently leading him on for, like, well, a while now. Actually, it may not have been as inadvertent as I thought it was. I think my subconscious has been doing this for a while now. I do love him, but as a brother, you know? Like, he’s basically my family. Guys fall in love with their girl best friends all the time, so...I’m just kind of confused as to how this is different than that. You and your best friend basically become one person, so this was bound to happen one day, right? You know at weddings when people always say ‘I’m marrying my best friend’? Maybe best friends were always made to find each other and mine just happened to be a guy. Wait, I’m not gonna marry him. Sorry, my train of thought process right now is brutal. But, I don’t know. If being gay is a sin, and you do control everything, why would you put me in this situation? I know that people say you choose to sin, but it doesn't feel like I'm choosing this; it feels like I'm becoming aware of something that was always there. How can being myself be a sin? Did you predestine me to go to Hell before I was born? Was that always your plan for me? I didn't have any say in that so it's not my choice. How can this be considered my sin? Isn't it yours? Are you using me as a scapegoat to get rid of your sins? Because that’s really cruel…no offense. Wow. I am just…I am really confused. And if you could help me out or give me a sign or something, that'd be great. Okay. Thanks for listening...if you were actually listening. If you weren't, then...well you're not listening, so I guess none of this matters to you and I look like an idiot praying into the air. Thanks for that.  
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, Amen.’

 

The next day was a Friday. It was January 17th, 1997. When Harry picked Louis up, Louis had the capacity of strength in him to look Harry in the eye and give him a closed mouth smile. It was platonic. The music was considerably lower today: still Oasis.  
“How was your walk home?” Harry asked, eyes on the road.  
“Good…good.” Noel Gallagher was singing ‘Slip inside the eye of your mind, don’t you know you might find, a better place to play’.  
“D’you still wanna sleep over my house tonight? They’re calling for snow storms in the evening so I can just take you home if you want.” Was Harry trying to distance himself from Louis? To Hell with that if Harry thought he could push Louis away.  
“I sleep over your house every Friday. A snow storm isn’t going to stop me.” Harry close-mouthed smiled, dimples forming and his eyes still on the road.  
‘So I start a revolution from my bed, cause you said the brains I had went to my head’.

 

It didn’t snow that night.  
It was a fucking blizzard.  
Harry’s au’pair took a job as a secretary for some company so Harry was currently au’pairless. His Dad left the day before to go back to Norway; apparently they liked him there.  
So Louis and Harry were home.  
Alone.  
Things were less awkward because they actually talked like real human beings during the day at school. They got to Harry’s house where Louis changed into one of Harry’s shirts and pair of sweatpants, because ‘sharing is caring’ and all, and they decided to have dinner…except there was literally no food in the house that was readily available to consume.  
“Hazza, what is going on with the eating situation in this house?” Louis asked as he was going through the food cabinets: there was a box of cereal, two boxes of expired poptarts, popcorn, a ton of soup cans, tuna cans, a can of tomato preservatives, Oreo cookies, and wow, how was Harry even living? Meanwhile, Harry was looking in the fridge.  
“Dunno. Usually my au’pair makes dinner, but she left, so…there’s that.”  
“You don’t go food shopping often?”  
“I don’t, no. There’s a jar of mayo in here. And some Swiss cheese. Oh and a bag of carrots…and I think these might have been peaches at one point…” Harry pulled out four brown balls of fur and held them up to Louis.  
“Trash. Now. Then wash your hands, for God’s sake…” Harry laughed and instead threw one of the brown balls at Louis’ face. It hit like a cinderblock and left its sticky guts falling down the side of his cheek. “Ouch!” He looked over at Harry to see him still laughing, his eyes crinkling and his smile as wide as a whale, his cheeks red as they rose up to this eyes. It was hard to pretend to be mad at Harry when he looked so happy like that. Louis picked up the deceased peach and threw it right back at Harry, sliding it down his arm.  
“Ewwww!” Harry screamed in a high-pitched voice, as though he was impersonating a girl. Louis chuckled at that.  
“Now put it in the trash.”  
“Yes, Sir.” Now in a soldier’s voice. Louis rolled his eyes and averted his attention back to the food cabinets.  
“Aha! You have a box of spaghetti!”  
“Really? I actually know how to cook pasta.”  
“Somebody call the President: Harry Styles actually knows how to cook something!” Harry came over to Louis and yanked the box out of Louis’ hand with his tongue sticking out and face scrunched up like a child.  
“I know how to cook, I’ve just never had the opportunity to use my skills.”  
“This coming from Harry-lets-just-order-a-pizza-or-get-takeout-Styles.” Harry had gone to opening the cabinets around the stove. He would open, look, then close them. Open, look, close. Open, look, close. Open, look, “You’re looking for a pot, aren’t you?”  
“Shut up.” Harry kept going on his pattern until Louis couldn’t take it anymore. He coughed as though he was clearing out his throat; Harry turned around and looked at him. “Yes?” Louis simply pointed to the area above the stove: 3 different pots and 2 pans were hanging from a rack. “Oh.”  
“You sure you’re capable of making pasta?” Harry walked over to the stove and reached up to grab a pot; his shirt rode up a bit so the skin above the hem of his pants shown. That was strangely attractive.  
Well. Not attractive, but…damn it. Yes it was. It was attractive. Damn it.  
“Yes. Now close your sassy mouth and go pick out a movie for us to watch tonight.”  
“Well then, you’re awfully assertive tonight.”  
“Yes. I am.”  
“Quick tip before I shut my ‘sassy’ mouth and pick out a movie: the drainer is in the cabinet left to the stove. Don’t burn the house down!”  
After Louis picked out Mission Impossible, he came back into the kitchen and sat on the island table, feet dangling as he just watched Harry.  
“You’re taking this ‘closing your mouth’ thing seriously, aren’t you?” Harry looked at Louis and Louis nodded; Harry just smiled to himself and turned back around to stir the pasta.  
There was something oddly soothing about the whole aura of the room. So what if Harry thought Louis was going to kiss him and leaned forward as if he wanted it to happen? They were still best friends who could just appreciate the presence of each other. Who said they had to be talking? This was comfortable enough. Louis enjoyed swinging his feet back and forth, alternating his vision from watching the snow fall down outside the window and Harry stirring the pasta: the flexing of the muscles in his arm and his rounded yet strong shoulder blades visible through his tee-shirt.  
Wait. Do best friends think about each other’s muscles flexing?  
Harry grabbed a fork and dipped it in the pot, spun the pasta around it, then turned around, walked in between Louis’ legs, and held it up to Louis’ mouth: “taste” he said. Louis looked straight into Harry’s eyes. They seemed to be totally content, but they also seemed to be asking for permission to look into Louis’ soul all at once. It was as if the two were the only ones in the entire room…which, granted, they were, but still. Louis leaned forward and ate the pasta. It was fine. He nodded at Harry, and Harry turned back around to turn off the stove.  
So maybe this wasn’t normal. Okay. But it worked for them. So it worked.

 

They were sitting in the living room on the couch, sharing a blanket, eating pasta from a huge bowl that was balanced in the space in between Harry’s right leg and Louis’ left with two forks, watching Tom Cruise running when it happened.  
The power went out.  
“Crap.” Harry said. They just sat there, continuing to eat the pasta, accepting the fact that Mother Nature clearly did not want there to be any light.  
“Well, this is exciting. I think we top Tom Cruise on the action level.” Harry sighed.  
“We have a back up generator.”  
“Really?!” Louis looked around. It was pitch black as his eyes started to adjust to the darkness. “Why aren’t any lights on then?”  
“The generator only powers a light in the hallway and the fridge.”  
“Really? The refrigerator? You’re wasting the electricity on the refrigerator? There’s nothing in there!” Harry chuckled.  
“Most of the time there is!”  
“Oh, you’re right, I’m sorry: God forbid the mayo go bad.” Louis could hear Harry’s soft sigh.  
“Yeah…God forbid…” he whispered out. Alright. That could have two meanings but Louis was probably overthinking it…right? He felt Harry place the pasta bowl onto Louis’ lap and got out from under the blanket. “I’m gonna go find a flashlight.”  
“Okay.” Louis heard Harry’s patted footsteps on the hard wood floor slowly get quieter and quieter. He probably wouldn’t have been able to hear Harry in the kitchen if the lights were still on, but they weren’t and apparently all of his other senses were kicked into over-drive, so he could hear him. It sounded like he was searching through drawers again. Louis took his fork and started swirling the pasta around the bowl. They had already eaten three-fourths of the bowl’s contents and there was still a fair amount left. Louis found himself suddenly nervous; he wasn’t really sure why the butterflies started gently fluttering around in his stomach again. Then he saw a light come on and heard Harry come back. The butterflies turned into moths who had spotted a source of light and flocked to it like vultures who spotted a dead carcass on the side of the road.  
'Well,' Louis remembers thinking, 'whatever happens tonight, Mother Nature was clearly responsible of it.'  
“My Dad didn’t finish this bottle of wine so I figured, why not finish it?” Louis could see even through the dark that Harry had a sly smile on. Harry flashed the light of the flashlight onto Louis’ face.  
“Ouch, get that out of my eyes!” Harry giggled,  
“Just wanted to make sure you were still there and not hiding to scare me or something.” He plopped down on the couch next to Louis and got under the blanket, then put his mouth on the wine bottle and took a sip. Louis could see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. God, that was hot. “Refreshing.” Harry smiled and offered the bottle to Louis. Louis put the pasta bowl on the ground and took the bottle from Harry’s hands to imitate what Harry just did. The alcohol burned going down his throat, much more violently than he remembered wine ever doing. The bitter taste traveled up to his ears. It was pretty terrible.  
“Shit, that’s strong.”  
“My Dad likes to splurge on alcohol.”  
“Clearly.”  
“We should play a game.” Harry suggested as he set the flashlight on the ground.  
“What, like I spy?”  
“I spy with my little eye something sarcastic.”  
“The blanket really is sarcastic today.”  
“Indeed it is.” Harry re-positioned himself so he was sitting pretzel styled facing Louis. Louis imitated him. Their knees touched under the blanket. Harry held out his hand and Louis was about to give him the bottle.  
“How about…every time we take a sip, we have to say something about ourselves that the other person doesn’t know.” He could see Harry squint his eyes and smile deviously.  
“Deal. Gimme.” Louis gave Harry the bottle, “Ummm, I’ve never eaten lobster before.” He took a drink.  
“Oh, c’mon. It has to be more interesting than that.” Harry held out the bottle.  
“Alright, your turn.” Louis took in a deep breath and grasped the bottle.  
“When we were dating, Eleanor gave me a few blow jobs but I only ever fingered her once and that was as far as I ever went with her. Mainly, because I never wanted to. She always bitched about it, too.” Louis took a drink and when he put the bottle down, he noticed Harry was smiling, “What?”  
“I always wondered why you would never talk about that.”  
“Well, there’s your answer. Your turn, go.” He shoved the bottle into Harry’s lap.  
“I never liked Eleanor. In fact, I kind of despised her existence…and if I’m being honest, I still do today.” He took a sip. Interesting. Harry handed him the bottle.  
“The only reason I dated Eleanor for so long was because my Dad wanted me to.” Sip. Bottle hand off.  
“This is kind of embarrassing, but the night of winter formal freshman year, Caroline took me back to her house and tried to give me a hand job, but I couldn’t get hard.” Louis smiled and snorted out at that. “Hey, it was a bad time. My mom had just left, we were fighting, and I clearly didn’t like her. I ended up sleeping on her couch while she slept in her room.”  
“You didn't go home that night?”  
“No.”  
“So...you just came to my house afterwards?”  
“Yeah, after walking around your block at least five times. I couldn’t even eat anything, I was so nervous when I knocked on your door and your Mom let me in. You looked like you were going to kill me at Eleanor’s party.”  
“Wait…but you weren’t wearing the same clothes as the night before.” Harry giggled.  
“You’re just realizing that? Your Mom noticed when she let me in and gave me one of your shirts and a pair of sweatpants.”  
“Wait a minute…that was my Beatles shirt, wasn’t it?” Harry cackled, “Bastard!” Harry took a sip. “I loved that shirt! Do you still have it?”  
“Mhmm.”  
“Are you gonna give it back?”  
“Don’t count on it.”  
“You’re ridiculous.”  
“Ridiculously charming.” A devilish smirk grew on Harry’s face and he wagged his eyebrows up and down. Louis couldn’t help but laugh at that.  
“I think you mean ridiculously insane.”  
“You’re still here.”  
“Yeah, yeah, hand over the bottle, Styles.” Harry did as he was told. “Ummm, let’s see…when Lottie was born, I stole her toys because I was jealous that I had t’share my parents.” Sip. Bottle hand off.  
“When my parents, y’know, made me, it was supposed to be a one night stand. But then my Mom got pregnant, so one night turned into eternity, and I turned into the embodiment of the one night stand's worst nightmare.” Sip. Bottle hand off.  
“My parents weren’t plannin’ on having kids until a few years after they were married. My Mom got pregnant three months after the wedding. They called me ‘God’s gift’. I call them idiots.” Sip. Bottle hand off.  
“When we were in first grade, I senna love-letter to our teacher and asked her to marry me so I could’ave a new mom.” Sip. Bottle hand off.  
“I wish my Dad wouldn’t always be judgin’ me. If there is a God, he does enough of that a’ready and I donneed my Dad lookin’ down my shoulder every second.” Sip. Bottle hand off.  
“I never believed in the Christian God. The only Gods I’ve ever liked were the Greek and Roman ones ‘cause they each got their own stories and personalities.” Good to know. Sip. Bottle hand off.  
“Wish I didn’t believe in God.” Sip. Bottle hand off. Wow, Louis’ face was getting warm and the room was starting to spin. “R’you feeling, like, tipsyish?”  
“This isn’t just wine: it was half empty so I mixed it with half a bottle of vodka.”  
“I knew this tasted terrible!”  
“Surpriiiise.” Harry sing-songed. Louis started laughing as Harry drank. He handed Louis the bottle afterwards.  
“Ummm…hmmm…the summer between freshman and sophomore year, one of my fellow life-guarders tried to get in my pants.”  
“Really? Who?”  
“He just graduated at the time –”  
“He?”  
“Yeah…Stan?” Louis couldn’t believe he just admitted that. He could trust Harry with the information, but there was no one else on the planet he would even consider revealing that to.  
“Never met him…” Harry looked like he was in deep thought as Louis took a sip. It was a nice thing to get off of his chest. He felt strangely better. “You didn’t let him, didju?”  
“No, ‘course not! That’s disgusting.” Wait, what? Why did he just say that? He was raised to think a guy being with another guy was disgusting – which it was. But, did he actually believe that? Was it disgusting? Why did it feel good when Stan was trying to get him off? Why was he reevaluating his life right now?  
“What’s disgusting?”  
“Doing that.” He handed the bottle to Harry and noticed his eyebrows were furrowed. He was hoping Harry would drop the topic.  
“Doin’ what?”  
“Y’know…” Louis wasn’t sure why but the words wouldn’t come out of his mouth. It was like a wall was preventing him to speak. But why?  
“Sucking a dick?” And there it was. That was the thought. Harry was looking at him with wide, blown out eyes and he said that so bluntly, as though it meant nothing. Nerves were getting the best of Louis. He quickly nodded before looking down and playing with the end of the blanket. “Don’chu ever wonder, though?” Louis decided to play dumb.  
“Wonder what?”  
“What it’d be like…to do that?” Louis’ stomach dropped down four stories.  
“No.” It came out like a lie to deny a true accusation. He looked up to find Harry’s eyes set on the bottle. He was turning it around in his hands. Louis knew this would be crossing a border, he knew it would change things, but he was so damn curious that he needed to ask: “D’you?” They sat in silence for a few seconds. Louis felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin with apprehension. Then, after what seemed like centuries of waiting, Harry shrugged and whispered,  
“Maybe.” Harry looked up and the air around the two suddenly felt charged with energy. “When I was in Norway...I met this guy...and...and...” And? And...? And what? “he gave me a blow job.” Harry quickly blurted out. No matter how drunk Louis was, those words would’ve always felt like they stabbed his stomach. He wasn’t exactly sure why. Harry drank. Louis sat there in silence. So...what did this mean? Was Harry...gay? Did it count as gay if he was the one being sucked off, not the one sucking off? Did he like it? How long did he know the guy for? Did he do it more than once? Did they have a...a...thing...going on? Did Harry have a thing with another guy and not tell Louis about it? Suddenly, Louis felt angry at this guy he didn't even know. A pit was burning in his chest. He had so many questions, he didn't know where to start, until he blurted out without thinking,  
“He just didit?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Did y’know his name?”  
“Nick.” From then on, every Nick Louis ever met in his life was renamed ‘fucking Nick’.  
“Oh.” Louis was hurt, and angry, and...sad? Was he sad? Was that why his eyes felt like they were burning and his chest felt like it was about to explode? Was that what this overwhelming feeling was? No, it had to be the alcohol. Why would Louis be sad about this? Because this guy Harry...messed around with, had a name? And it was fucking Nick? He wasn't jealous...right? No, this wasn't jealousy. He was just drunk. Feelings get confused when people get drunk. Yeah. That's all this was.  
“D’you think that’s weird? That, like, a guy. Blew me.” Louis remembers thinking: 'I think it’s weird that a guy who wasn’t me blew you – wait, where the hell did that come from?' He felt the blood pumping in his cheeks…and downwards. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Louis pulled the blanket over himself more and cleared his throat before saying,  
“I mean, issa bit strange.” Was it, though? Honestly, was it strange? How was it any less strange than a girl doing it?  
“Y’should letta guy blow you. It’s fun. Feels good.” Holy shit. The burning in his body was just getting worse. Fuck Nick. Fuck Norway Nick. Fuck him. No one was allowed to make Harry feel good besides Louis.  
“Oh.” He didn’t know what to do with all of this new information. More importantly, he didn’t know if he wanted to know more or not. “Have you ever…?” Oh, okay. Apparently his drunken self did want to know more.  
“No.” Harry waited there, clearly open to answering any more questions Louis had, but Louis was at a standstill. He was trying to comprehend the fact that they were having this conversation. Harry handed Louis the bottle; apparently he wasn’t thinking fast enough and the conversation was over now. Damn it. Well, maybe that was for the best.  
“Ummm…damn, I can’think…” about anything else but Harry was blown by a guy. What did Louis want to know? Was Harry attracted to guys? Was Harry attracted to him? Did he want to try blowing a guy? Did he want to blow him? Shit. He should not be having these thoughts. He needed to get away from them, and he needed to get away now. “Ummm, how ‘bout this: I took the class fish home in secon grade for the weeken’an I overfed it so it died.” Harry apparently thought this was the funniest thing in the World as he almost fell over the couch in uncontrollable laughter; Louis caught him just in time.  
“Y’would be that kid.”  
“Shudup ‘nd confess.” He said, silently praying that he would confess something else about his feelings towards guys. Louis put the bottle into Harry’s hand. He had to aim a few times to get it right. Harry hiccupped.  
“I think if I drink anymore, m’gonna throwup everywhere.”  
“Me too.”  
“M’gonna putit back now.” Harry tried getting up with the bottle in his hand. When his large feet hit the floor, his gangly body tried to turn around, and the miscoordination of the two resulted in him falling on the ground and the rest of the contents of the bottle pouring out onto the floor. Louis didn’t know whether to laugh or get down and help him, so he did both. When he bent down on the floor, basically just sliding off the couch, Harry was still laughing, “Shit.”  
“Y’re so stupid.”  
“Helme gedup.” Louis’ mind decided to move, but his brain decided not to send the commands to his limbs.  
“If I could gedup, I’d help. Budim stuck.”  
“Darn.”  
“Yeppp.” Louis popped the slurred out p’s and Harry was sent into another fit of laughter, which sent Louis into a fit of laughter. “We’r so screw’d.” Harry fell silent.  
“Are we?” Louis tried to think. But it came out of his mouth instead.  
“I mean, in some ways yes. Budin others, not a’tall.”  
“Yay.” Harry cheered weakly. Louis looked at him and couldn’t help but giggle at the state both of them were in. Or maybe it was the mess that they were in. Louis can’t remember. He laid down and rested his head on Harry’s stomach, making Harry release an “ompf”, the blanket still wrapped around Louis’ feet.  
“W’should problly clean up.” Louis told Harry.  
“Mhmm. Problly.”  
They both fell asleep instead. 

 

“Lou…Lou.” Louis was greeted back to the living World with a hand cradling its way through his hair. Each strand was being delicately lifted up and combed through with long fingers. Louis noticed his head was on a moving surface; it kept going up-down-up-down. He tried opening his eyes once, but his muscles decided he was too tired to and Louis really had no motivation. “Lou.” That strong, low, seducing, burgundy, molasses voice repeated again. He noticed how it raised goose bumps around his ears. “Wake up.” Louis willed himself to sit up off of the moving surface. His head clearly didn’t like the idea because his brain started punching his skull and his was sent into a tilt-a-whirl. He rubbed his hands against shut-eyes and willed himself to open them. It was still dark out. He heard a chuckle coming from behind him; Louis ordered his body to turn around and it did so.  
Even in the dark, Louis swore Harry shone light. His face was covered with sleep, but his eyes were wide open and gleamed a subtle white light like the moon. His hair was a wreck: curls flying in every direction with no hope of being tamed down; he kind of looked like he had been thoroughly fucked.  
Wait…no, that wasn’t –  
Oh who gives a shit.  
“What time is it?” Louis asked.  
“Dunno. I’m guessing it’s still night time.”  
“If the darkness is anything to go by, I’d assume you’re right.” Harry softly smiled.  
“Yeah…I need to clean that up.” Harry pointed to the ground. There was a placid lake of wine-vodka just resting on the floor next to Harry, the bottle to the side of it.  
“Right.” Harry got on his feet and started padding towards the kitchen. Louis just took this time to watch as his eyes adjusted to the dark. He felt bad that he didn’t get up to get whatever cleaning supplies were needed, but he was about to possess a disgustingly awful hang over, so it was warranted. Louis always seemed to get drunk faster and be hung over longer than Harry. Life wasn’t fair.  
Harry came back in with two towels and some sort of blue spray; Louis really had no idea, he never did housework outside of taking out the trash and cleaning the dishes. He took the one towel and absorbed the liquid, misted the spray on top of the spot, and then used the other towel to absorb the spray. It was somehow magically clean.  
“Doing okay there, Pal?” Louis blinked his eyes.  
“Yeah, yeah…my head feels likes it was on a continuous coin-ride at the mall for two hours.” Harry laughed and walked around Louis to pick up the bowl they’d earlier been eating from.  
“Would you like some pasta with that hangover?” Louis groaned.  
“Would you like some vomit on your floor?”  
“I have some Advil in the kitchen if you need something.”  
“Yes, please.” Harry started walking back to the kitchen and Louis unfolded the blanket around his feet because he would manage to trip on that. Somehow, he found it in him to zombie his way into the kitchen, where Harry was pouring a glass of water. The tap shut off, and Harry turned around to Louis with the glass in one hand and the pill in the other.  
“Here you go.” Did Harry always look like he was bursting with hope?  
“Thanks.” Louis could feel Harry’s gaze on him as he swallowed the pill. The only sound was the refrigerator vibrating.  
“M’tired. Wanna go sleep in a real bed?”  
“Yes, please.”  
“M’kay. Lemme go get the flashlight.” Harry seemed to flounce out of the kitchen with his own light and come back seconds later with a real light. Louis liked Harry’s light better. “Ready?”  
They trekked their way up the stairs, Harry shining the flashlight and his hand on the small of Louis’ back. Louis wasn’t complaining. They got to the second floor hallway, which was dimly lit. “Hey look, the light the generator powers!” Harry said, a smirk in his voice. Louis just looked at him; he could probably pass for an angel. No, he could definitely pass for an angel. And his lips…wow. They were so beautifully plump and – “You okay?” Louis was put out of his train of thought and averted his gaze back up to Harry’s eyes.  
“Yeah, yeah.” Harry squeezed his hand on Louis’ back and led them into his bedroom. They both went to their respective sides of the bed: Louis on the left and Harry on the right. Louis laid on his right side and Harry laid on his back. For some reason, Louis still couldn’t stop looking at Harry. There was just something that was so…so Harry about him. He looked entirely innocent just laying there, the soft in and out of breath through his nose making his entire body raise and lower. Louis kind of wanted to cuddle him.  
So he did.  
Louis moved over and side hugged Harry, his arm draping over Harry’s chest and his face muzzled in the space between Harry’s pillow and neck. He closed his eyes.  
The only thing Louis could smell was Harry.  
The only thing Louis could feel was Harry.  
“Are you still, ummm, drunk?” Harry asked this question like if he were to ask it wrong, he would fall through thin ice. Louis thought about it: he wasn’t dizzy in the head anymore…he didn’t feel drunk. Yeah, he was definitely just hung over.  
“Nope.” Louis answered sweetly. Louis could tell that the gears in Harry’s head were on overdrive for some reason, and they lay there in silence for a while. He took this time to just smell Harry. He was sweet, kind of like a really good peach. Or maybe it was more watermelon. Maybe it was every sweet and delicious fruit known to mankind. Not to say he smelt like fruit, his scent just reminded Louis of it. He was also warm. Just, like, everything about him was warm. It was warm like sitting near a fireplace. It was warm like a baby being swaddled in its blanket. The whole feel of Harry was just the definition of comfort. Louis swore that if he opened the dictionary to ‘comfort’, he would find a picture of every time he and Harry ever touched. That would be like a dictionary of its own kind, though.  
“Hey, Lou,” Harry wrapped his right hand around Louis’ left and then paused. Harry was biting his bottom lip. Louis squeezed Harry’s right hand, as if to tell him to get on with it. Harry squeezed back. Louis knew at this point the conversation was silent, but he wasn’t exactly sure what it was about.  
Deep down he knew what it meant.  
Louis squeezed Harry’s hand one more time, lingering on for a bit longer than the other times. His stomach jumped up to his throat as he did this, and his heart moved down to his stomach; his internal organs decided to play musical chairs and rearrange themselves in the process. But there was nothing to be nervous about. Organs: never trust them.  
Louis could hear and feel Harry re-position himself: he still grasped onto Louis’ hand, but he had managed to turn Louis onto his back and was on top of Louis now, straddling him with his knees next to either side of Louis waist while he was hovering over Louis’ chest.  
Okay.  
So this was what he had to be nervous about.  
Organs: always trust them.  
The air was really thin. Harry was no longer looking into Louis’ eyes: he was staring at Louis’ lips. Louis couldn’t help but lick his own lips at the moment. His gaze was caught between Harry’s lips and Harry’s eyes looking at Louis’ lips.  
Louis should’ve been afraid.  
Louis should’ve been terrified.  
But this was Harry.  
This was his best friend: Harry Styles.  
Suddenly, Louis was washed over with a tidal wave of all-consuming desire.  
'Just once,' Louis remembers thinking, 'I just want to taste him once.'  
Harry squeezed Louis’ hand one more time.  
Just once.  
Louis squeezed back.  
Harry’s left hand cautiously enveloped itself under Louis’ chin and lifted it up.  
Harry started moving his face closer, inch by inch, to Louis'.  
Fuck. Louis was going to throw up. He couldn’t feel his legs.  
Harry stopped moving when their noses touched.  
Louis could feel his breath hit Harry’s face. Louis could sense Harry’s warm breath cloaking Louis’ own face.  
Louis put his right hand on Harry’s left.  
How was it possible for somebody to be this close and not touch?  
Louis couldn’t stand it. To hell with the woodpecker in his chest. Damn the mutant butterflies in his stomach.  
Louis squeezed Harry’s hand one last time.  
He moved his head forward every so slightly and Harry did the same until…  
Softness.  
A smooth, silky, moist, plump, beautiful, softness.  
Lips.  
Touching Louis’ lips.  
Harry’s lips.  
Harry’s lips touching Louis’ lips.  
Louis’ lips touching Harry’s lips.  
Louis closed his eyes.  
Everything was electric. His blood was shooting off sparks in every direction.  
A kiss.  
The most gentle and calming and warming kiss Louis had ever experienced.  
Well, at that point anyway.  
Then Harry backed up his head, making a soft ‘pop’ noise that was audible when their lips parted ways. Louis could feel their lips ghosting one another.  
Wait.  
That was it?  
That was one kiss?  
No.  
Not enough.  
Who was Louis kidding: one would never be enough when it came to Harry.  
Louis leaned up and captured Harry’s lips in his own. Louis moved his lips to mold with Harry’s. Harry started moving his lips too. Then Harry pressed into the kiss harder. Louis swore that his lips had their own heartbeat. It was just Louis and Harry. Harry and Louis. And their lips. And for the first time in what felt like years, everything felt perfect and nothing was wrong.  
Harry backed up once again, making another ‘pop’. Louis could still feel Harry’s breath lingering over his face; he opened his eyes to see Harry with a closed mouthed smile. If Louis had ever seen a fond and loving smile before, it didn’t nearly compare to this one. The two made eye contact and wow. It was Harry. It was a side of Harry that Louis had never seen before. Harry was definitely emitting every single color of light that the sight couldn’t even compare to the Northern Lights. It was so much more magnificent.  
It was everything. And Louis decided he always wanted to see Harry like this.  
Harry got off of Louis, and Louis may have whimpered at that. Instead, Harry lay facing Louis, their bodies perfectly aligned; Harry with a gentle hand on Louis’ waist and Louis’ hand holding onto the fabric of Harry’s shirt as he muzzled his face into Harry’s warm neck. They fell asleep like that. Hearts beating in sync.  
And everything was perfect.

 

Louis opened his eyes to the sound of snow blowers and the feel of a warm body. His nose was breathing in Harry’s neck skin, just as he had remembered.  
So that did happen. They did kiss. It wasn’t a dream.  
Well then.  
Apparently during the night Harry had wrapped his arm entirely around Louis’ body, holding him closer than a kid holds its beloved stuffed animal that it sleeps with every night. Everything that Harry did was the definition of charming and endearing and loveable. When Louis backed up enough to see his face, Harry looked like he was smiling in his sleep. The only thing Louis could pay attention to was his lips and how fantastic it was to kiss them and his soft breathing –  
And the snow blowers.  
Right. The snow blowers. Louis needed to get home to help shovel the sidewalk and driveway. He felt bad, but he needed to wake Harry up. He gently poked him on the nose. “Hazza.” He whispered. No response. He poked a bit harder the next time. “Haz.” Still nothing. He didn’t want to be inconsiderate in how he woke Harry up, so slapping was not an option. Louis tenderly pinched Harry’s cheek and started moving it around, “Hazzaaaa” he sing-songed. Harry started moving his head around to try and get out of the grip.  
“Mmmphs” Harry groaned.  
“Good morning to you too.” Harry finally opened his eyes and Louis let his grip go of the pinch. They just stared at each other, both with softhearted smiles on their face. Louis could see himself being reflected in Harry’s irises.  
“Hi.” Harry said breathtakingly in his morning grogginess. Louis had to catch his breath.  
“Hi.” Harry used his hand that wasn’t wrapped around Louis to stroke Louis’ hair. Being pampered was nice. He sighed, “I need you to take me home.” The stroking slowed down as Harry’s brows furrowed; it seemed like he was in-between being heartbrokenly crushed and entirely confused.  
“Why?”  
“Have to go help shovel snow. My Dad will have a fit if I’m not there.”  
Shit.  
His Dad.  
Louis hadn’t thought about his Dad the entire second half of that night.  
Oh God.  
Louis and Harry kissed.  
Oh no.  
Nonononononono.  
His organs were playing musical chairs again: his brain included this time.  
“M’kay…ummm, are you okay?” Louis pulled himself out of Harry’s grip and up to his feet.  
“Yeah. Fine.” He frantically searched for his clothes on the floor, spotted them, and then ran into the bathroom to change. He looked at himself in the mirror. The only thing he saw was shame.  
Ashamed that he sinned and, if it was true, would definitely be going to Hell.  
Ashamed that he could never let his Dad know or else he would be shunned.  
Ashamed that he let his Dad down.  
Ashamed that he led Harry on.  
Ashamed that he was ruining their relationship by being ashamed.  
Ashamed that he wanted to kiss Harry again and again and again.  
Ashamed that he didn’t know who he was.

 

They got to Louis house about twenty minutes later, the car ride spent in silence. When Harry parked the car, Louis noticed his Dad outside, shoveling the driveway.  
“You okay?” Harry asked once again. Louis didn’t take his gaze off of his Dad; he noticed the car and was looking directly in the window at Louis.  
“Yeah, just, like…yeah. I need…yeah.” Harry stayed silent. Louis opened the door and got out. “I’ll see you Monday?”  
“Yeah.” Louis closed the door and Harry drove away. Wow, he felt like shit. Harry did nothing wrong and Louis was treating him like shit. This was a new level of utter confusion.  
“Power go out?” Louis’ Dad asked as Louis walked up to him.  
“Yeah. Here?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Oh.” It felt like his Dad was staring daggers into his soul. He knew. There was no way he didn’t know. He had to know…  
But how could he know?  
Oh, right: the absolute and undeniable shame written all over Louis’ face.  
“Go inside and get a shovel.” His Dad said.  
Yep. He could see right through Louis’ façade.  
Louis did as he was told.  
So this was the new level of low.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support so far!!! I hope you've been enjoying the story :)  
> Sorry that this chapter is kinda short. The next one is gonna be pretty long, though: expecting it to be done by the end of the week!

Louis had all Saturday to think. However, the power came back on around 2pm and he decided to distract himself from the impending identity crisis. Lottie wanted to build a snowman, so that helped, although it ended up being a snow seal after the head came collapsing down and Louis remodeled the thing and thought ‘Harry would love this’, which didn’t help. His Mom made him help prepare dinner, so that helped. His Dad looked like he was assessing Louis all day with perfect clarity, so that didn’t help. And at night, when he was laying wide-awake in bed, that didn’t help either. He felt like a balloon was being blown up inside of him all day; instead of a helium, air, or water balloon, this was a balloon full of anxiety. It burst while he was laying in his bed. Louis’ breath hitched and his heart raced a thousand cheetahs and there wasn’t enough oxygen and what was breathing and he burst into tears.  
He hated himself. Louis truly, deeply hated himself at that moment. Louis remembers thinking he was a disgrace to everyone he’s ever met in his life. There was really only one option at that point in time.  
After silencing his sobs, Louis quietly crept downstairs and picked up the phone and dialed.  
Ding……Ding……Ding……Ding…“Hello?”  
“Haz?” Louis choked down a sob.  
“Lou?”  
“Hi.”  
“What’s going on? Why are you crying?” Louis choked down another sob.  
“I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so so so so so sorry.”  
“…For what…?” He sounded fearfully nervous. Louis hated that he caused his voice tone to sound like that.  
“You have every right to hate me –”  
“What are you talking about? I don’t hate –”  
“Don’t lie, please.”  
“Louis. Breathe.” Louis did as he was told and took in a deep breath and released it. “I don’t hate you. Where is this coming from?”  
“Can you just…this, like…just…come here. To my house.”  
“It’s midnight.”  
“Please.” It was a plea that was spoken with Louis’ entire being. Tear crept out of his eyes. “I just…I really…I need you here right now…please.” Harry didn't even pause,  
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”  
“Thanks.”  
“Ummm…yeah.” Harry hung up the phone while Louis kept his grip on it, just listening to the dial tone. He really had no clue what he was doing.

 

Twenty minutes later, Louis put on a coat and slippers, and sat on his front door step. The snow on the lawn was lit up by the illumination of a car coming down the street. It was about time. Louis had spent the past twenty minutes pacing around his house then lying on the floor trying to get his head to shut up. He remembers when Harry came out of his car and Louis stayed still on the step, his heart thumping like a racing rabbit and about to explode.  
“Hey…” Harry walked up to Louis with reservation. Louis looked up to see a nervous, shy, fearful, and heartbreakingly beautiful Harry. He tried to make words come out of his mouth, but it seemed like his throat wasn’t working. Harry hesitantly sat down to the right of Louis on the step and they just sat there for a moment, not making eye contact; Louis just wasn’t capable of it. “Are you, ummm…are you okay?” Louis sighed. He tried to make words come out of his mouth again, but nothing worked. His throat was as dry as the Sahara Desert yet burning like it was the surface of the Sun. Overall, it was a very unsettling and uncomfortable feeling. He shook his head left and right because no, he wasn’t okay. He was shivering at this moment…or maybe just shaking. It could be either or both. “Can you just…can you…like, ummm…tell me…” Harry paused for a moment, “Was it a mistake?” Harry whispered quietly. That was a question Louis could feel was coming on. It was only a matter of time before Harry asked; Louis knew that was what Harry was thinking about all day. He felt extraordinarily guilty when he finally turned his head and looked at Harry; green eyes were once again emitting that all-encompassing hope on a tragically exhausted and sorrowful face, with a downcast frown and furrowed eye brows. He felt even more ashamed when he didn’t answer the question immediately, even though he knew the answer.  
“No.” Louis could’ve sworn he was about to spew up all of his organs: they were begging to be let out of his body. Harry quickly smiled for a millisecond then seemed to sense Louis’ nerves; he took Louis’ right hand in his left. Both of their hands were sweating like they had been in a sauna for an hour.  
“That’s…ummm, yeah. Me too.” Louis took a deep breath and looked out at the road. The entire street was dimly lit up with quiet streetlights, illuminating their glow onto the twinkling snow. It was amazing how everything was so peaceful outside, but inside Louis’ mind, a tornado was destroying every single dream and ambition he ever had. Harry squeezed Louis’ hand and, oh God, not again. His stomach started churning.  
“Haz–” He caught himself, “Harry,”  
“Lou, I just need you to tell me what’s going on inside of your head because I can’t…like, think. And I hate not knowing what you’re thinking.” Louis’ throat was as hot as lava.  
“I don’t…I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m thinking.”  
“Yeah, you do, you – ”  
“I don’t know Harry!” Louis couldn’t help but quietly exclaim. His chest was blazing, “I don’t know what you want me to say that you didn’t already know was coming.” Shit, his eyelids were getting hot and dry, “I feel like shit because this wasn’t supposed to ever happen. And I feel like shit for saying that because…because I wanted it to happen. Fuck. I…Harry, I wanted it to happen.” A tear came down his face, “I – I wasn’t supposed to want this to happen. I wasn’t supposed to – to let it happen.” Now it was a stream of tears, “I can’t…I can’t…keep...wanting. Fuck! I’m not allowed to.” He looked at Harry, “But - but then you. I, just….do. Fuck, I fucking do! And…fuck.” And now he was sobbing. Once again.  
Great.  
Louis bent over and put his face into his hands. Harry released his hand from Louis’, which gave Louis a minor heart attack. However, Harry put his arm around Louis and held him into his chest; Louis gave into the touch. It was amazingly quiet outside. The snow echoed Louis’ sobs.  
“If – if my…my Dad…he’ll throw me out.” He said in between his overwhelming bursts of tears. It was like a dam broke loose. A dam of tears filled with hesitation, frustration, reservation, anger, and overall confusion. Harry stroked his back.  
“He won’t find out.” Louis rolled his eyes.  
“This…this is…my Da – Dad we’re talk – talking about.”  
“So…we’ll keep it a secret. Just us. We’re the only two who know.” Louis’ sobs became muted hiccups and he sat back up.  
“I don’t…I don’t think – ”  
“Stop telling me what you think and start saying what you feel.” Louis just looked into Harry’s eyes. They were like staring into a green abyss that never seemed to end. Louis would look into it forever if he could; maybe he would find the answers to questions Louis wasn’t capable of asking. “Please, Lou.” Harry begged as if he were a homeless man begging for money on the street. “For me?” Louis sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.  
“My brain is telling me one word.”  
“Which is…?”  
“Don’t.”  
“Ummm, don’t what?”  
“No,” Louis couldn’t help but let out a small half-hearted giggle at that, “my brain is saying don’t do it.”  
“Oh.” They sat there for a moment. Harry slowly drew back his arm from around Louis’ shoulders. He was suddenly very cold, even though their bodies were still lined up against each other, thighs, knees, and feet touching.  
“Yeah…but. Like. There’s also this other…thing.”  
“Thing?”  
“Yeah…I don’t know what it is.”  
“Your hea– ”  
“Don’t say heart because physical hearts don’t feel…this.”  
“What are you on?” Harry said with a carefree tone while nudging his knee into Louis’.  
“I’m trying to explain.”  
“Sorry. Go on.”  
“There’s like…this bigger part of me that’s saying…‘yeah’…and I really don’t know what to do.” Louis looked into Harry’s eyes to try and find an answer. All he saw was gloomy optimism. That was quite the paradox. “I think…no, I feel like, like I want this. I think I may have for...well, I don’t know.” Harry was biting the inside of his cheeks to keep from smiling. It was enchanting. “But I’m…it seems like a horrible idea. Like, what would happen if we got…caught? I don’t know. I don’t wanna think about it.”  
“Okay…well, I’ll give it to you that yes, it probably is a horrible idea.”  
“This isn’t what I wanna hear –”  
“I’m trying to explain.” It was an endearing impersonation. Louis nodded Harry on while wiping a stray tear from his eye, “What I’m trying to say is that there are a lot of possible outcomes. And there are a lot of ‘ifs’…trust me, I’ve been thinking about them all day. But, when it’s happening,” Harry took Louis’ right hand in his left once again then looked Louis in the eye, “it feels right. No, it feels better than right; it feels like…like basically perfect. Like everything is starting to fit together. Right?” Louis latched on to Harry’s hand; the way his fingers just molded into Harry’s and felt secure in the grasp told him almost a thousand words. Louis nodded as another tear came out of his eye. Harry took his right hand and used the tip of his index finger to carefully mop up the tear. “I know it probably doesn’t seem right. I know that you were raised to think that this is wrong. I know that…but can you honestly tell me that this,” Harry squeezed their hands, “this feels wrong?” It didn’t. Louis shook his head ‘no’. “We’re still us. And it’s kinda obvious that we both don’t exactly know what we’re doing or, ummm, how to. When it comes to this. But, I’ve never felt this way with anyone else before. And the great thing about this is that we’re in it together; we’re always going to have each other. It’s never not gonna be that way. So, we can take it one day at a time –”  
“More like one minute at a time.” Harry chuckled.  
“Okay: one minute at a time. But those minutes will be spent together. Just us. We’re gonna be here for each other. Maybe things will just…start to fall into place. But we’ll do it together.” Harry squeezed Louis’ hand one more time, “We’ll take it slow. How does that sound?”  
Everything.  
Everything Harry had just said was true. And right. And perfect.  
Just like Harry himself.  
There was really only one thing Louis could do.  
Louis squeezed Harry’s hand.

 

When Harry picked Louis up Monday morning, they ended up holding hands over the armrest as Harry steered with his left hand. However, not much in their relationship seemed to change that week. They did seem to play footsie under the lunch table more often. Harry also started to do this thing where he would stare at Louis while drinking his water bottle with his mouth encircling the entire lip of the bottle. A couple times, Louis caught Harry staring at him with his teeth biting his index finger. He would usually just joke around and whisper, “Don't bite off your finger.” That would make the dimples and redness emerge. Sure, Louis started questioning the little things that he did and he would have a panic attack every time his Dad talked to him. But that seemed to be it in changes. 

 

Then Friday came.  
After they got back to Harry’s house and ate pizza, they decided to play pool.  
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been in the billiards room before.” Louis told Harry. It was kind of strange when he thought about it; Harry’s house was basically Louis’ at this point if ownership was based off of the amount of time that someone had been there.  
“I hope you at least know how to play because if not, I’m going to embarrass you so much.” Harry was wearing grey sweatpants that elongated his legs and a white tee-shirt that revealed Harry’s newly forming biceps. Louis had the overwhelming craving to straddle Harry and just kiss him until they couldn’t breathe. He just wasn’t sure if Harry would be okay with that and Louis himself was kind of afraid of initiating it so things went on as they had for the past week: a kissing drought.…although, it was starting to get to Louis.  
“And if I do?”  
“I’m going to be embarrassed.”  
“Good to know.”  
Harry started the game, sending the solid colored '3' ball into one of the corner pockets. He took his next shot and had no such luck. Then Louis took his turn; he ended up skimming the top of the cue ball.  
“You’ve never played before, have you?”  
“Shhhhhh.” Harry laughed and leaned on the table, clearly judging Louis. He tried concentrating on the line up, but feeling Harry’s eyes on him was seriously distracting him. Louis took another shot, and the cue hit the air next to the ball.  
“Okay, I’m pausing this game so I can teach you how to play.” Louis wasn’t really in the mood to put up a fight, so he just agreed. Harry stood next to him, “Do what I do.” Louis nodded. “First, align your body with the shot. Your right foot should be at a 45 degree angle with the line of the shot you’re about to make. Yes?” Harry looked over at Louis. Louis was really uncomfortable.  
“I feel like a ballerina, Haz.”  
“Good. Okay, you need to make sure that you’re gripping the cue stick comfortably. Your right hand should grip the butt of the stick with your thumb as a support and your index, middle, and ring finger doing the gripping. Form a bridge with the fingers of your left hand around the tip of the cue.” Louis was getting a tad bit flustered at the language. Harry looked over at him, “Wow. You’re pathetic.” Harry laughed and put his stick down, then walked over to stand behind Louis. He started to position himself flush against Louis’ back and used his fingers to position Louis’ right hand. “This feel better?” Louis was too elated to talk. He nodded instead. “Okay, you need to change your stance too. Bend your left knee and bend your hips.” Harry did it with him and God, everything was lining up. All of Louis’ blood was flowing downwards and…oh boy: was that Harry’s dick he was feeling? “Better?” It felt extraordinarily better, “...Lou, it’d be nice if you said something?”  
“Sorry, it’s kinda hard to focus right now.” Louis felt Harry bending over so his mouth was right next to Louis’ right ear.  
“How hard?” Harry whispered flirtatiously. The warmth of his breath sent goose bumps flying all over his neck.  
“A good amount of hard.” Harry’s laugh was low and slow. It was the definition of ‘alluring’.  
“You’re quite cheeky.”  
“Mmmm.” It was then that Harry started kissing the right of Louis’ neck. The sudden heat now sent goose bumps down Louis’ spine as he sucked in a sudden breath and started tilting his head to the left. Harry put his hands on both sides of Louis’ waist and Louis let go of the cue and put his hands over Harry’s; everything was lining up as Louis closed his eyes. Harry opened his mouth and started delicately sucking on the spot. As good as it felt, Louis gained up the strength to say, “No hickies.” Harry unlatched himself from Louis’ neck.  
“Sorry.” Louis squeezed Harry’s hands. Harry pulled Louis’ right hip to turn Louis around so they were face to face. Louis was captivated by the look on Harry’s face: pure tenderness and affection in the form of a dimpled smile and entrancing eyes.  
“Hi.”  
“Hi.” Harry’s eyes were staring at Louis’ lips, “I really wanna kiss you.” Louis remembers thinking, 'Me too'.  
“Okay.” Harry moved his hands from Louis’ waist up to the back of his neck. In turn, Louis put his hands on the top of Harry’s hips. Harry slowly moved his head forward, until Louis shut his eyes and closed the gap between their lips. Louis swore he would never get tired of kissing Harry’s lips in that moment. It was just like the first time that they had kissed: a smooth, silky, moist, plump, beautiful softness. Louis felt like his blood was shooting off fireworks in every single atom of his body. Harry began to massage the place on Louis’ neck where the hair started and it was like he had just been shocked as the rest of his body hairs stood up. Louis wanted to be closer; he pulled Harry’s hips towards him until their bodies were aligned chest for chest. Louis pulled away to get in a breath then fixed their lips together once again. This time, he felt Harry open his lips ever so slightly, and then they closed. Then his lips started opening again and Louis followed suit and faintly opened his lips. He felt Harry’s tongue start to graze the space in between Louis’ upper and bottom lip. Louis’ heart started palpitating; it felt like he was floating. Harry pulled Louis’ head so it was tilting backwards a bit and Harry moved himself forward in between the space of Louis’ legs. This made Louis moan a bit and he was pretty sure that Harry lost it then; Harry worked his tongue into Louis’ mouth and started creating circles with a new force of lust that Louis had never experienced before. He moved his hands from the back of Louis’ neck to his thighs and lifted Louis up. Louis was shocked and briefly disconnected their mouths to take in a deep breath; he moved his hands from Harry’s hips to the back of Harry’s neck and linked his legs around Harry’s back. Harry sat him down on the pool table and reconnected their lips this time. Louis clutched onto Harry’s hair and started caressing each curl. Harry moaned into Louis’ mouth and his tongue started stroking Louis’. It felt like a cosmic explosion; Louis swore he saw stars. Their mouths felt like they were joined to each other’s. Louis wasn’t sure where his mouth began and where Harry’s ended. Their breath seemed to become the breath of one person.  
Louis wasn’t sure how long this went on for, but there came a point where it was somehow agreed that they needed to unfasten their lips from each other and take a deep breath. They just looked at each other while trying to catch their breath, both panting.  
“Was that slow enough?” Harry asked while using his hands to massage Louis’ hips with his thumbs. Louis laughed and kept on fondling Harry’s hair.  
“You’re perfect.”

 

Next Friday was the day before Harry’s birthday. His Mom and her boyfriend were coming in on Saturday to stay for the weekend, so the two of them decided that Friday would be their day. Louis baked a dozen cupcakes Thursday night and got the whole cafeteria to sing Happy Birthday to Harry during lunch. Being outgoing did have its advantages at times. When they got to Harry’s house after school, Louis didn’t hesitate to gently push Harry up against a wall and kiss tenderly into his mouth for a minute or so, with his hands grazing Harry’s chest over his shirt. When they separated, Harry smiled down at him.  
“What was that for?”  
“I just really wanted to kiss you.” Harry cupped Louis’ face with his hands.  
“Well…I really wanna kiss you again.”  
“I think I can give you that...for a price, though.”  
“A price?”  
“You didn't think this affection was free, did you? It's gonna be a quarter for each kiss you initiate.”  
“A quarter a kiss? Jeez, you're gonna be a millionaire after tonight then.” Harry squeezed Louis’ butt cheeks and Louis blushed.  
“Hey. Above the waist, Styles.”  
Harry chuckled, quite satisfied with himself, and didn’t move his hands. Louis didn’t mind. He just kissed Harry again.

 

Harry decided he wanted to watch Lady and the Tramp that night.  
“Lady and the Tramp?”  
“It’s such an underrated film…I haven’t seen it for about twelve years. And classic Disney is one of the best things on this planet. After you, that is.”  
Louis spent the movie lying in Harry’s arms. It was crazily endearing how invested Harry was in the movie. At certain parts Louis would just look up at him and see Harry entranced in the movie, eyes glowing like a kid on Christmas Eve who had just heard jingle bells.  
Louis knew he was smitten. 

 

They woke up Saturday morning tangled in each other. Harry had on this dazed morning look with his eyes half lidded and his dimpled smile. Louis put a hand on his cheek and started lightly stroking the skin there.  
“Happy Birthday, Hazza.” Louis gradually moved towards Harry’s face and gave him a short kiss. He couldn’t really care about morning breath. Harry muzzled his head into Louis’ neck. “I have a present for you.” Harry looked up at Louis. God, he was beautiful in the morning.  
“Thought we said no presents.”  
“Yeah, well, it just sort of came to me, so...” Louis reluctantly got out of Harry’s grip, slumped out of the bed, and searched his bag until he found it. He clasped his right hand around it and sat cross-legged on the bed. Harry sat up with a smile on his face. “I didn’t wrap it because, well…I didn’t really know how to. So, Happy Birthday.” He opened his hand to reveal the stringed bracelet. “Lemme explain. Lottie has been on this friendship bracelet craze for, like, the last month. And she taught me how to do this striped pattern. So I knew that your favorite color is blue so I made it blue, black, white, and orange. I wanted to write ‘Harry’ on it, but that’s kinda beyond my capability. So… yeah.” Harry took it out of Louis’ hand. “You like it?”  
“I can’t believe you made this…well, I can, but still. It’s amazing.” Harry was beaming. Louis felt like he had just won the lottery, “Tie it on for me?” Harry held out his left hand and Louis tied it on. He really did like Harry’s hands; his long fingers and broad yet slender palms made them the most attractive hands Louis had ever seen in his life. Harry took Louis’ right hand in his left. “I love it. Thank you.” Harry leaned in and kissed Louis. Everything went warm and fuzzy after that.

 

Harry was right.  
Everything was starting to line itself up.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I really don't know how many chapters this is gonna be. I'll let you know when there are three chapters left hahah. There are gonna be three more of these chapters that take place in the past, which actually makes me kinda sad, but they'll be happy-sad chapters...anyway, then to the future!!!
> 
> Thanks for all of your fantastic feedback!! It really means a lot to me that you guys love the story and are invested in it like I am!! 
> 
> Enjoy!!

And then Louis would come home and things didn’t seem to line themselves up.  
Louis did still have his hesitations about the situation. It wasn’t that uncommon for Louis to come home after spending a night at Harry’s house and mentally hit himself for fooling around with a guy. And not just any guy: Harry. Louis almost had a heart attack when Harry’s new au’pair walked into his room while they were making out. Thankfully, she knocked, so Louis rolled off the bed and onto the ground, and when she walked in Louis yelled, “I found the quarter!”. Keeping peoples’ suspicions down low was up high on Louis’ list of priorities.  
Louis remembers that he became more reserved when he was home. Honestly, he was scared; he would never admit that, but it was the truth. Lottie would continuously ask, “is Harry coming over soon?” and to avoid the topic of Harry, Louis would just ask if she had a crush on him. That shut her up.  
Oh, what she didn’t know.

 

Louis got his license the third week of February. His Dad asked him if he wanted to use his car on the weekends, but Louis said that Harry could pick him up.  
“Why? You can use my car.”  
“Harry has his own car and doesn’t mind driving me places.”  
“You don’t need him. You can use my car.”  
“Don’t you need it? How are you gonna get around?”  
“Mom and I will share her car.”  
“And if Lottie needs to go somewhere?”  
“You can drive her.”  
“I really don’t wanna do that.”  
“I really don’t care, you’re going to do it.”  
“Harry can just keep taking me places, I don’t actually need the car.”  
“I’m saying that he doesn’t need to take you around anymore on the weekends.”  
“Why does this matter so much?”  
“I'm done arguing with you, Louis. You’re taking the car.”

 

It was the beginning of April when Eleanor came up to Louis in the hallway.  
“Hey, Louis, wait up!” He looked over his shoulder to see Eleanor flouncing towards him. Louis rolled his eyes to himself then feigned a smile when she was next to him. “Hey.”  
“Hello.” It was kind of awkward walking alone next to her for what felt like the first time in years. He put his hands around the straps of his backpack so he wouldn’t have to spend time trying to figure out what to do with them.  
“So, I know that this is out of the blue and all, but senior prom is coming up at the end of the month…” She paused. Louis didn’t know what to do.  
“Cool.”  
“Yeah, and like…I was wondering if maybe you, like, wanted to go with me?”  
Oh. Well then.  
He wasn’t expecting that at all.  
“I dunno, El…”  
“Pleaseee, Louis?” Louis started fidgeting with his backpack straps; he was really uncomfortable.  
“You can’t go with anybody else?”  
“No. There’s, like, nobody else.”  
“Nobody? Not a single person on this planet?”  
“Well…I just, I would really love to go with you.”  
“I dunno – ”  
“If you don’t go with me I’m not gonna have a date to my senior prom and I’m not gonna be able to go. Do you realize how embarrassing that would be?” No, he actually didn’t: it was just a dumb dance. “I’ll be a laughing stock. There’s, like, nobody else I can go with. Please, Lou…for old time’s sake?” Louis reluctantly sighed. She was just like Lottie and wouldn’t shut up until Louis gave in. “I dunno what I’m gonna do if you say no – ”  
“Okay, alright, fine.”  
“Oh my God, thank you so much! This literally means the World to me! You’re my favorite person ever! I’ll get you more details soon.” She stopped him in his tracks and kissed him on the cheek, then flounced away.  
For some reason, Louis felt really shitty about that.

 

It wasn’t any better when he told Harry during their daily car ride back to Louis’ house.  
“You said yes?” He asked incredulously. Louis rolled his eyes.  
“She wouldn’t shut up. It’s not that big of a deal.” For some reason, Harry deemed it appropriate to pull the car over to the side of the road and put it in park.  
“Louis, she could get any guy that she wants.”  
“She claimed that she couldn’t – ”  
“You’re not paying attention!” Harry’s eyes were in a mix between hurt and anger…was that jealousy? “She still wants you, Lou.”  
“Oh bullshit, no she doesn’t.”  
“Could you just stop being a stubborn idiot for one minute? That’s all I ask for.” Now Louis was starting to get irritated; this topic was too stupid to get in a fight about.  
“Harry, you’re overreacting.”  
“Overreacting?” Harry shouted. Everything seemed louder in the car. “If anything, you're under-reacting. Your ex-girlfriend has suddenly come out of nowhere and asked to go to prom with you. If that’s not suspicious to you at all, then you’re an actual moron.”  
“It’s just prom, calm down.”  
“Louis, you don’t get it!” Harry sounded like he was about to cry. This was getting remarkably frustrating.  
“Then tell me why you’re so upset!”  
“Because she’s some fucking girl who means fucking nothing to you, yet she’s still gonna get to go to fucking prom with you and I’m never gonna be able to do that!” Harry threw his head back on the headrest and closed his eyes, his chest going up and down at an alarmingly fast rate; he was actually furious about this. Louis still didn’t get why people care about prom.  
“Harry,” He said gently, “it’s just a stupid dance. It’s Eleanor, and we both know that she doesn’t mean anything to me. Why do we need to go to a stupid dance? There’s nothing special about it.”  
“Yes there is.” Harry sighed, clearly defeated. “It’s the time for everybody to show off who they’re with and say ‘hey, somebody actually likes me enough to get dressed up in fancy clothes and spend a night in a shitty venue with me’.” Louis didn’t really know what to say to that. They sat in silence…well, except for the Oasis tape that was still playing in the background as per usual. Harry couldn’t really expect Louis to go out in public and say ‘hey everybody, we’re together’. That was out of the question since they first started this, so it was annoying that Harry had randomly decided that he didn’t really want that anymore. It was also frustrating because Harry should’ve known that this would only lead into an argument; Louis’ mind wouldn’t change any time soon. “You’re not even hers anymore…yet she still gets to use you as arm candy and you just let her.”  
“We both know that I’m not hers.”  
“Nobody else knows that. Everyone is gonna think you’re back together.”  
“So I’ll just tell them that we’re not.”  
“Still…” Harry started, voice fading off into the distance.  
“Oh my God, what? What is there to ‘still’ about? I don’t get why all of a sudden you’re bringing this up even though we both agreed that we couldn’t– ”  
“I think I wanna come out.” It was a single sentence that made Louis’ stomach drop a thousand feet. Louis shut up and Harry finally looked at him, “I hate, ummm…hiding? Who I am.” Louis could feel his heart rate getting faster and his throat getting drier.  
“You’re Harry. You’re Harry and everybody knows that you’re Harry.”  
“Yeah, but, I hate it that everybody thinks that. Like, shouldn’t they know that I’m Harry who likes gu – ”  
“No, no they shouldn’t. I don’t know why you think that they should. That’s something that only the people closest to you should know. Only the people that you trust the most. Only me. ”  
“Lou, it would just feel so much better to – ”  
“No. It wouldn’t. You’re not…no.” To say Louis was about to have a panic attack was an understatement.  
“You’re not in charge of this decision. Isn’t it possible for me to want people to know? Isn’t it possible that I may be happier if people – ”  
“If anybody finds out…then – then they’re gonna see me and…and – ”  
“No they won’t.”  
“Yes they will!” Louis could feel smoke coming out of his ears and his face was a new flush of red. “People connect the dots! If you really like…this, and wanna keep it going, then you won’t do it.”  
“Did you just threaten me?”  
“No - I - no, that's not what I meant - ”  
“This isn't - you’re not understanding me right now! God, you’re so frustrating!”  
“I’m not understanding? Maybe if you would think about me for one second you would realize – ”  
“Maybe if you would think about me for one second then we wouldn’t be in this argument! Not everything is about you all the time, Louis.” Alright, that was the last straw.  
“Fuck this.” He couldn’t take it anymore. The car had shrunk down to the size of a toy car and was being stuffed with more and more pressure. It was hard to breathe; he needed air and to just get away from this conversation. Louis unbuckled the seat belt, grabbed his backpack, and opened the door.  
“What are you doing?”  
“What does it look like?” Louis got out of the car,  
“Running away from the problem doesn’t fix it!”  
“Yeah, but it gets me through the day.” He was about to shut the door, but then he remembered: “Oh yeah, I guess this is a bad time to tell you, but I thought I should tell you anyway since I don’t wanna hurt you or anything: Eleanor kissed me on the cheek. That’s all.”  
“What the fuck? You’re being such an asshole, Louis! All I wanted was for you to support me, and this is the support you give? I wish you could just hear yourself right now and realize how much of a dick you’re being! You never listen!” Louis chose that exact moment to slam the door shut and start his now 5-minute walk home. Harry put the car in drive and sped off going about 50 miles per hour in a residential area.  
Fucking hell: Harry was fucking insane.

 

Fucking hell: Louis was a selfish asshole.  
He realized this when he slammed the door to his room and started crying.  
Harry was right: he was a stubborn dick who was clueless and didn’t listen.  
He didn’t even think about what Harry wanted or what he was feeling. Louis was too concerned with everybody, especially his Dad, finding out that Harry was…well, whatever he was. They never actually talked about that. But the point was that if people found out that Harry was into guys and they saw him with Louis all the time, they would think that the two of them were together. Which would be bad. Very, very, very bad. He didn’t want to think about that possible outcome.  
But still, he didn’t even think that Harry might be happier not hiding.  
And he treated Harry like shit.  
He knew Harry was jealous of Eleanor, and Louis just rubbed it in his face like it was acid disguised in a washcloth.  
And he felt like shit.  
So now he was crying.  
And someone just opened the door to his room.  
He was such a fuck up he couldn’t even remember to lock the door.  
“Lou, Mom says – oh.” Louis used his hand to wipe his tears and saw Lottie standing in the doorway with her mouth agape.  
“What?”  
“That…oh, um, you need to take out the trash. Are you okay?”  
“Okay. And I’m fine. Go away.” Louis said, wiping away more tears.  
“Then…why are you crying?”  
“Lottie, leave!”  
“Okay, okay.” Lottie closed the door and Louis lay his head face down in his pillow. Louis was becoming a person he really hated.  
He really knew how to fuck himself over. 

 

At dinner, he stayed quiet. He felt Lottie’s eyes on him the whole time; she was really concerned for some reason. Granted, he didn’t usually cry in front of her, but still. It was weird. He didn’t know that Lottie looked up to him so much.  
“How was your day, Lou?” His Dad asked.  
“Fine.” He immediately filled up his mouth with two fork-fulls of chicken so he wouldn’t have to talk.  
“How about you, Lottie?”  
“It was good.”  
“Does anybody need to go to the mall this weekend?” His Mom asked.  
“I need a new pair of flip-flops.” Lottie said.  
“Louis?” He swallowed his food.  
“Umm, yeah.”  
“Alright…what do you need?”  
“A tuxedo.”  
“Why?” Lottie asked.  
“Umm, I’m, uh, going to prom with Eleanor.”  
“Really?” His Dad asked. Louis remembers thinking, 'of course.'  
“Yeah.” His Dad smiled and nodded.  
“Good for you.” Louis sighed and started playing with his food. Suddenly, he wasn’t very hungry.

 

Later that night, Lottie came into Louis’ room again and asked if he wanted to watch some show that he’d never heard of with her.  
“I have to study for a test.” Louis typically emerged himself in any type of work when he didn’t feel like thinking about a problem in his life. Especially math work because he wasn’t any good at it and would have to work and focus ten times harder.  
“Okay…” She still didn’t leave the room. Louis looked up from his textbook.  
“What?”  
“It’s just…you look sad.”  
“Leave, Lottie, I'm not in the mood.”  
“Did you get in a fight with Harry or something?” Louis banged his head in his textbook. He really couldn’t deal with this right now. “So yes…is he not gonna come around anymore?”  
“Lottie, I don’t care about your stupid crush. Go away.” He mumbled into his textbook. He finally heard her leave and shut the door.  
Louis was getting so sick of this family.

 

He wasn’t sure if Harry would pick him up or not the next morning, so he just sat on his front door step for ten minutes after breakfast. Lottie slammed the door into his back when she and his Mom were leaving, and his Mom didn’t understand why Louis was just sitting there.  
“Harry’s just running late, that’s all.”  
“Are you sure? I can always give you a ride.”  
“It’s fine. Have a good day.” He laid his head in his lap so the conversation would be over with. He heard Lottie explain to their Mom as they walked to the car,  
“He's in a mood because he and Harry are in a fight.”  
Louis moaned.

 

Ten more minutes passed by, and now if Louis wanted to get to school in time, he needed to start walking. He got up to start plodding to school when the car came down the street. It was a mix between relief and fear when he realized that the two of them would be spending the next fifteen minutes together. Harry parked the car down the street in the direction that Louis was walking. Louis got in the car and of fucking course: Oasis was still playing. The same exact tape that had been playing for the past four months. Louis knew every single word to every song. ‘She’s Electric’ was playing.  
“Do you only have one tape?” He looked over at Harry; his brows were furrowed and he was frowning…and not the cute puppy frown.  
“Why were you walking?” He asked in defense. Louis knew there was no use in lying to Harry at this point.  
“I didn’t know if you were gonna pick me up and I didn’t wanna be late.”  
“Why would you think that? You were the one who got out and left yesterday, not me.”  
“Yeah…I wanted to apologize for that.” Harry put the car in drive.  
“So apologize.” He simply said. Louis rolled his eyes; he wasn’t the only one wrong in this situation.  
“I was a dick. And I didn’t consider how you were feeling…I’m sorry.” They sat in silence for a while. ‘I need more time. And I want you to know that I’ve got my mind made up now, but I need more time’. It was starting to scare Louis how accurate music lyrics could be. “But I don’t think you really understood how I was feeling.”  
“Yeah, well…I’m sorry too. I didn’t really think about how it would, ummm, affect you.”  
“Yeah…”  
“But you were being such an asshole about this and the whole prom thing.”  
“Yeah, I know. I should’ve gone about it…better.”  
“Too late for that.” Harry’s anger turned into melancholy at this moment. Louis looked over to see that he had on a pout and pensive eyes.  
“Harry, I really am sorry. I feel like shit.” They sat in silence for five minutes. He wasn’t sure if Harry forgave him or not. Then Harry softly spoke,  
“I’m not gonna do it…ummm, tell people. About me.” The huge boulder on Louis’ shoulder seemed to disappear into thin air when Harry said this.  
“I don’t…I don’t know how to thank you.”  
“Just…don’t, ummm…never mind.” Louis wasn’t sure what Harry was going to say, but he didn’t push it.

 

Harry was quiet the rest of the day. Whenever Louis looked at him, he had on a fake closed mouthed smile with downcast eyes. This was Louis’ own form of torment and he couldn’t take it anymore. When they were driving home, Louis told Harry to park on the side of a random road. He seemed confused, but Harry did it. Once the car was in park, Louis leaned over the arm rest, put both of his hands on either side of Harry’s face, looked into his green doe-eyes for a few seconds in silence, then just dove in and kissed him. It started out slow with languid movements of both pairs of lips, then Louis started pushing his tongue into Harry’s warm, wet mouth, and started tracing patterns onto Harry’s tongue. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing, but God, it felt phenomenal. Harry had his hands resting on the back of Louis’ neck and just seemed to be pulling him in closer and closer and closer. Louis felt the breath coming out of Harry’s nose warming up his cheeks. Then, he realized that no matter how good this felt, it wasn’t really solving anything. He pulled back and rested their foreheads together, noses touching, and mouths trying to capture air.  
“Harry Styles, you mean the World to me. I would do anything you asked me to if it made you happy.” They sat there for a few more moments in silence, taking each other in, eyelashes fluttering against one another. Harry was always beautiful. His eyelashes that were long and full were beautiful. His irises that were the most extraordinary combustion of colors were beautiful. The way his eyebrows raised when he heard something incredibly funny was beautiful. His round cheeks were beautiful. His long nose that flared when he tried to catch his breath was beautiful. Even his smooth chin was beautiful. Then, Harry simply said,  
“Kiss me, you fool.”  
So Louis did.

 

Three weeks later, the dreaded prom weekend had arrived. Louis took his Dad’s car and his family took his Mom’s to Eleanor’s house. There were eight couples there along with all of their families. The whole thing felt like a waste of time, but Louis put a smile on anyway to make everyone else happy. Eleanor was wearing a sparkly satin blue dress that fit to her body, with her hair straightened out. Louis wore a black tuxedo with a bow tie that he swore was suffocating him. They took what felt like a thousand pictures with Louis pressed up against Eleanor’s back and his hands wrapped around Eleanor’s waist. He didn’t realize how uncomfortable it was holding Eleanor’s little bony waist until he had become accustomed to grasping onto Harry’s broad, expansive, and tender one for dear life. He wasn’t really sure how to hold onto what little there was to grasp. Eleanor tried to hold his hand, and he forgot how to hold a hand with his on the outside. Overall, it was very awkward. However, his parents seemed happy so Louis went with it.  
Louis drove them to the hotel that it was being hosted at. Eleanor tried to make conversation, but Louis no longer knew how to sustain it. He was too busy thinking about what Harry was doing and how much better this night would be if it were spent with him. In the ballroom, Eleanor kept trying to dance with him, and finally Louis gave in. It was fine until a slow song came on and Eleanor started talking. She had her arms wrapped around his neck and he reluctantly held a loose grip on her hips.  
“I miss this.” She said. Louis tried not to make eye contact so he looked around the ballroom instead. “Do you?”  
“Oh…um…I think that we had our time.”  
“Do you miss us?” No. Not at all.  
Right now, he was missing Harry.  
“I mean…we had our time.”  
“Why can’t this be our time? I think that we ended things too soon.”  
Oh no. Harry was right; she did still want him.  
She started massaging his neck with her long fingernails. It felt like a scorpion walking on him and he leaned his neck forward to try and get away from the grip. Apparently Eleanor took this the wrong way and all of a sudden surged forward and kissed him roughly without any warning.  
Oh no.  
She kept moving her lips, but Louis wasn’t kissing back. For God’s sake, his eyes were open wide in shock. He tried moving his head back but her hands wouldn’t let him. They were about the same height, so then Louis bent down to try and duck out of the kiss. Finally, that got him free. He looked her in the eye and said,  
“No.”  
“Can’t you just give it another chance?”  
“No. I can’t. No…no.” 

 

The rest of prom was spent in an unpleasant silence. Louis dropped Eleanor off at her house and immediately drove to Harry’s after. Harry opened the door and Louis walked inside, exhausted with the night’s events. Louis took off his shoes and was in the process of taking off his bow tie, when Harry held Louis’ arm and said, “Wait.”  
“What?”  
“I wanna look at you.”  
“Haz – ”  
“Shhhh.” Louis shut up, sighed, and just stood there while Harry looked him over. It was actually very hot in a strange way, knowing that Harry was looking Louis up and down. “You look hot.” Harry started running his hands over Louis’ chest, which calmed Louis a bit, but also started to turn him on. Harry still had on the bracelet that Louis made for his birthday. “How was it?”  
“You were right.”  
“Ummm…about what?”  
“Eleanor kissed me.” Harry stopped moving his hands as his brows furrowed.  
“What?”  
“It wasn’t mutual, Haz, I swear. I had to, like, pry her off of me. It was awful. I never should’ve said yes to this. I should’ve just listened to you and – ” Harry pushed Louis up against a wall, his hands pinning Louis’ hips, and kissed him. Harry lined himself up against Louis and was tenderly kissing into Louis’ mouth. He wasn’t really sure why Harry had this reaction, but Louis took it. It felt really nice so, why not? Louis wrapped his hands around Harry’s back and held him. Harry separated their lips and moved his hands up to the back of Louis’ neck; his fingers were round and smooth, exactly the opposite of Eleanor’s. Nothing even compared to Harry.  
“I wasn’t expecting this reaction.” Louis breathed heavily into Harry’s face.  
“Yeah, well…”  
“You’re not pissed off?”  
“Oh no, I am. But at her. Not you.”  
“You do it better anyway.” Harry smiled and Louis leaned into kiss him again. Harry pulled them apart quickly.  
“My room. Now.”  
“Oh – ” Harry pulled on Louis’ dress coat and led him upstairs.  
Damn. Jealous Harry was really attractive.  
When they got up to his bedroom, Harry immediately locked the door and grabbed Louis’ waist. Harry had this look in his eyes that just said ‘I want’.  
“You’re sure you’re not mad at me?” He asked Harry.  
“I’m a bit upset, yeah...but that can be easily fixed.”  
“How?” Louis already knew the answer to this, but was playing coy just in case. Harry’s gaze shifted to Louis’ mouth and he lunged forward and effortlessly molded his lips into Louis’. They really seemed to have the kissing thing down. Harry’s tongue usually found its way into Louis’ mouth and he would move it up and down and side to side, tasting every inch of Louis’ mouth. Louis’ tongue usually chased Harry’s, like a game of cat and mouse…except in the end the cat and mouse melted into a hybrid cat-mouse. Harry’s hands started to push off Louis’ tuxedo coat so Louis helped him out and took it off. As it fell on the floor with a ‘plop’, Harry’s hands started unbuttoning Louis’ vest and then slid it off. Louis started laughing into Harry’s mouth and split their lips apart for a moment to whisper, “You’re awfully hasty”. Harry chuckled and took hold of the collar on Louis’ shirt, pulled him into a short kiss again, and started walking them towards Harry’s bed. Louis took hold of Harry’s hips while Harry untied Louis’ bow tie, neither of them breaking the intense eye contact. Harry’s eyes always captivated Louis. Every time he looked into them, they told Louis a new, exciting, and enthralling story; they were possibly one of the most enchanted things in this World. After Harry slid the bow tie fabric out of the collar, Louis couldn’t take it any more. He pushed Harry so he was sitting with his feet hanging off of the bed and pounced; Louis straddled him and dove into his lips. They were getting into their mouse-cat hybrid trend when Harry put his hands on the top button of Louis’ shirt.  
“Can I?” Louis nodded and went right back into the kiss with both of his hands on either side of Harry’s face, pulling him in closer. Louis prodded his tongue into Harry’s mouth this time, licking every part of his mouth and becoming consumed with the pure taste of ‘Harry’. Meanwhile, Harry was using his fingers to unhook each of the buttons on Louis’ shirt, starting from the top and moving to the bottom. With each button coming undone, Louis could feel his chest being hit with the air in the room along with Harry’s body warmth. Each time, Harry’s hands would travel more and more on the skin on Louis’ chest, causing a cozy fire to start burning in his torso. Finally, when Harry had unbuttoned the bottom, he opened the shirt so that the front of Louis’ chest was out and trailed his hands over the skin’s surface. Louis could feel the blood stop flowing mainly to his lips, and start flowing downwards.  
Yep. He wanted this.  
Really badly.  
He moved his hands down from Harry’s neck to the bottom of his tee shirt and tugged on it. Harry, immediately sensing what Louis wanted, pulled their lips apart and put his hands over Louis’, making him grab onto Harry’s shirt. He looked Louis in the eye and slowly pulled up their hands so they lifted Harry’s shirt up and off together in a swift motion, discarding it onto the floor. While Louis’ gaze was brought down to Harry’s chest, Harry slid Louis’ dress shirt off his arms and onto the floor. They had made out without shirts twice before, but something was really different this time. Louis had seen Harry’s bare chest plenty of times; this time he was really paying attention. Harry still had a little tummy, but he was all around well built. He had new abs forming, and his baby fat had recently seemed to melt away into skin that fit around his stomach muscles. Louis was well aware of Harry’s two ‘extra’ nipples that sat beneath his chest that were quite frankly very small, but also fun to play with because they were just sensitive enough. He also had hair growing in a straight line from the bottom of his belly button to…well, Louis didn’t actually know where to; all he knew was that he wanted to follow the pathway.  
Apparently Harry had the same idea too, because his hands took hold of the front of Louis’ belt buckle. There was something invigorating about knowing that Harry had been looking at Louis’ chest just as closely as he had looked at Harry’s. This was when Louis could feel he had a growing erection as his breath hitched. Louis was beyond words at this point.  
“Mmm” Louis murmured out. Harry tugged on the belt buckle once again and Louis let his head roll back; Harry moved his head forward to start gently kissing Louis’ neck.  
“Yes?” He whispered into Louis’ neck. The sultry voice dispatched goose bumps all throughout Louis’ body, and he was pretty sure his legs went numb.  
“Mhmm.” Louis mumbled. Harry started kissing Louis’ collarbone with carefulness while his hands unbuckled the belt. The feel of Harry’s fingers so close to Louis’ groin region along with Harry kissing the smooth lines of his collarbone was almost too much to handle. Louis could hear the metal of his belt buckle coming undone, but he refused to look at the sight because he would probably just lose it right then and there. His heart was beating like he was just chased by a jaguar for five days and thumped against his rib cage like it was a pounding hammer; his stomach contained several enclosed birds that tried to knock over the cage. He encompassed his hands into Harry’s curls and tried to focus on breathing.  
Then his buckle came undone, and Harry’s hands unbuttoned his pants and pulled the zipper down; Louis couldn’t take it anymore so he involuntarily moaned from the back of his throat. Harry took this as his signal to grab Louis’ waist and flip them so Louis was lying on the middle of the bed and Harry was now straddling him. Louis looked down once and saw the bulge in his own pants, but then Harry ducked down and started kissing Louis’ chest and Louis had to throw his head back onto the pillow to just contain himself. It was skin on skin. The feel of Harry’s tongue licking its way from the bottom of Louis’ collarbone to the top of his navel had Louis inhaling and exhaling like a newborn infant who had never breathed in air before.  
Then Harry started pushing down Louis’ pants so Louis could only feel the pulse in his dick. Louis shut his eyes so hard that no light could get through; his breath was boiling in his throat and Louis had to bite the insides his cheeks.  
“M’gonna…ummm, okay?” Harry said in his seductively deep voice.  
“Mmmm.” Louis moaned. Before he knew it, Louis’ pants were chucked onto the floor and Harry was kissing a line from the bottom of Louis’ belly button to the top of the dark blue boxers while his fingers rubbed circles into Louis’ inner thighs. Louis’ groin accidentally bucked up and hit Harry’s chest, sending a white warmth all throughout Louis’ body as his thigh muscles tightened up. Everything was at an all-time erotic stimulation high, and when Harry started pushing down Louis’ boxers, Louis clutched onto the sheets for dear life. The air hit Louis’ cock and the coldness made Louis twitch upwards once again while his boxers were around his knees. Then the tops of Harry’s right fingers crept around Louis’ shaft and Louis’ already painfully hard cock twitched upwards to his navel even more and leaked a bit of pre-cum; if Louis was on fire, he was totally okay with this type of inferno. His mind was screaming: Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, fucking shit fuck, Harry, fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, Harry! What came out instead was a high-pitched “Ouuuh”.  
Harry used the top of his fingertips to brush the head of Louis’ cock and spread the pre-come over his right palm. Harry’s left hand was stroking the inside of Louis’ right thigh. And then Harry’s entire right palm firmly wrapped itself around Louis’ shaft and started pulsing up and down. Up, down, up, down, a bit of a twist to the right, and down. Louis was losing it; he was lost in his mind, dizzy in a heated haze. He felt his entire body become numb, even his teeth, except for his cock that was entirely aware of Harry’s hand. His body unexpectedly bucked up into Harry’s hand; he needed more and more and more, and Harry seemed to sense this as he gripped tighter and started pulsing at a new, faster rate. The new pressure was incredible and Louis was at his breaking point. Suddenly, another white light sparked through him like a wild forest fire. All Louis felt was an ecstatically sensational vibration of cum rushing through and out of his cock with an alleviating relief. Harry kept stroking while Louis rode through his orgasm.  
And fuck it if this wasn’t the best thing that had happened to Louis. Even if it was only about thirty seconds.  
A few moments later, Harry let go of Louis’ cock and Louis could feel his previously expensed cum pooled up around his thighs as Harry moved up so he was once again face-to-face with Louis. Harry just looked at him with a subtle, yet wickedly playful smile; he wasn’t really sure what was going on through Harry’s head, but he looked like an angel with a flustered red face and Louis still couldn’t really think, so it was a perfect moment. “You’re beautiful.” Harry whispered with wide opened eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. Louis just continued to pant until he reached up and put his right hand on Harry’s left cheek. He shook his head because he really couldn’t believe that had just happened. Their chests brushed together when Harry leaned closer to give Louis a soft and sweet peck on the lips. Louis felt that Harry was hard when Harry put his left leg over both of Louis’. Louis’ breathing had evened out and he finally spoke,  
“Do you, um, want me to do, uh –  
“You don't have to if you don't want to." Louis felt bad, but he didn't think he was ready to do that. It was one thing when Harry touched his dick, but it was an entirely different thing if he touched Harry's. He wasn't ready for that transition just yet.  
"Sorry." He apologized. He felt like shit because Harry was giving and giving and giving, but Louis was too afraid to give back. He didn't deserve Harry. "S'okay. Ummm, I’m gonna go get something for…this.” He motioned to the bottom half of Louis’ body and his hand, which was covered in Louis' cum. Fuck, that sight was outrageous.  
“M’kay.” The loss of contact between the two when Louis got up was a bit strange. He was entirely aware of his cock that was just lying flaccid in the open air, but he didn’t really care. If Harry was in the bathroom for about four minutes and came back out with just his boxers on, Louis didn’t ask. He came back holding a few tissues and wiped Louis’ thighs off while Louis just laid there, looking at the angel with a halo that was sitting over him. “You’re my favorite person on this planet. Have I told you that?” Harry laughed, pulled Louis’ boxers back up, threw the tissues into the trash, and laid down to the left of Louis. Louis turned over on his left side and Harry was on his right: their chests perfectly lined up and attached to each other, and their legs linked together. Louis put his right hand on Harry’s waist and Harry laid his left arm over Louis’ chest.  
“You’re my favorite too.”  
“Good.”  
Louis closed his eyes and fell asleep, his breath in sync with Harry’s.

 

If they were close before that night, Louis remembers that afterwards, their relationship took on a new level of ‘attached at the hip’. Louis couldn’t be in the same room with Harry without touching him, and vice versa too. Whenever they met up in the hallway at school, Louis would slightly pinch one of Harry’s hips. Harry would usually put his hand around the back of Louis’ neck. Ironically, these were the places that both of their hands seemed to be magnetically attracted to while they were kissing. Louis was sure that the best thing about all of this was that Harry always seemed to look at Louis like he was the sun and a dimpled smile would always appear when they made even the slightest eye contact. It was also great when Louis would discreetly wink to Harry when they were close, but not close enough to touch; Harry would light up like he had just seen the funniest and most spectacular thing in his life.  
One of the best parts about it all was that the voice in the back of Louis’ head, which sounded suspiciously like his Dad’s, that would ask ‘what are you doing?’ and say ‘you need to stop this now’ seemed to only show up once a week after prom night instead of once every two or three days. 

 

It was a Friday two weeks after prom that Eleanor came up to Louis once again in the hallway after school ended; thankfully, this time he was walking with Harry.  
“Hey, Lou.” Louis looked over to see her face veiled in makeup. That was another thing he loved about Harry; Harry didn’t need to wear makeup to make him gorgeous. Harry was absolutely the most stunning thing Louis had seen even when they had both woken up in the morning, tousled in each other’s grip and his hair all disheveled. Then Louis realized that he was thinking about Harry again and snapped back into reality.  
“Hello.” He said. When he looked over at Harry, he looked livid. It really turned him on.  
“I was wondering if we could, like, talk? Alone?” Eleanor asked sheepishly.  
“You can’t talk in front of me?” Harry asked. Wow. Harry really did not like Eleanor at all.  
“Well, ehm…no. It’s between me and Louis.”  
“I’m sorry, but last time I checked, there was no ‘Eleanor and Louis’.” Louis giggled silently at this and Harry had on a mischievous and protective grin on; Louis pinched Harry’s hip playfully, silently agreeing with what he had just said, even if it was a bit spiteful. When Louis looked back at Eleanor, she looked taken back by the comment.  
“I’m sorry, but you’re not involved in this, Harry. Louis, can we go talk alone?” She said, emphasizing the 'alone'. Harry rolled his eyes and Louis had butterflies in his stomach for some reason. When Harry was jealous, he got even more sexier than normal in Louis’ eyes.  
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Louis told her. He saw Harry smirk out of the corner of his eye.  
“I just want to tell you some things…please?”  
“Just say them here.”  
“Louis, can we please speak in private.” Louis was getting really irritated by her consistent nagging; she never stopped talking until she got what she wanted.  
“No, Eleanor.”  
“Why?”  
“Because I don’t want to.” Harry was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.  
“Louis, come on. It’ll only take five minutes.” Louis had to physically stop walking to look her in the eye and show her how pissed off he was getting.  
“I said I don’t want to. I don’t know what you don’t understand about that. There’s nothing more to talk about unless you want to apologize for throwing yourself on me.”  
“I’m not sorry for that, though, Louis! I still think that we were meant to be together!” Harry sighed, clearly exasperated and frustrated and holding back from yelling at her. It was really hard to fight with Eleanor when he wanted to just pin Harry onto the ground and kiss the daylight out of him until his eyes were filled up with desire and want and darkness and hunger and lust and the pure definition of sex and wow, Louis was really distracted.  
“Well, I can tell you that what you’re feeling is purely one-sided.”  
“Then why did you say yes to go to prom with me if you didn’t want me! I think you still want me, you’re just afraid to admit it.” Harry blatantly let out a cackle at that and turned to Louis,  
“I’m gonna go out to the car, I’ll meet you there.”  
“No, no, this conversation is about to be over.”  
“It’s okay, Lou. I’ll be in the car.” Harry pinched Louis’ side before walking down the hallway and out the door. It probably was a good thing that he left because Louis couldn’t focus with Harry there.  
“Eleanor, I said yes because you did the exact same thing as you’re doing now: you repeat the same argument over and over again until I have to say yes. I did it because I wanted to be nice. That’s all.”  
“God, Louis! When did you become such an asshole! I know Harry doesn’t like me, but that shouldn’t influence – ”  
“You can yell at me about anything, I don’t care. But do not bring Harry into this. You yourself said he had no part in this conversation, so keep him out of it.”  
“Well he clearly does!”  
“No, he doesn’t! It’s just between you and me! And I don’t care about you anymore like I used to! Can you not get that through your head? I’m sick of this! I’m sick of you coming back to me thinking that something may have changed, when it didn’t. Okay?” Eleanor looked like she was on the verge of tears.  
“Louis, I still love you.” Louis backed up so he was leaning against the lockers.  
“What do you want me to say to that?”  
“Say you…I don’t know, I just want you to know!”  
“We had our time, Eleanor. It’s over now, alright? You’ll find another guy who’s going to love you more than I ever could.”  
“What do you mean, more than you ever could?”  
Shit.  
That phrase just came out of his mouth.  
He never actually thought about it before, but…  
He realized at that moment that he could never really commit to Eleanor because he wanted Harry the entire time they were dating.  
Shit, that was a really long time.  
Shit.  
He just admitted that to himself and Eleanor.  
Louis became really flustered at that moment.  
“I, ummm, just – ” Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, “I was never ready for that committed relationship.”  
“You seemed to be at the time.”  
“I wasn’t. I’m still not. You’re gonna find someone at college who’ll be great for you, I’m sure of it.”  
“Please, Louis – ”  
“No. Eleanor, I’m done. I’ve been done. I don’t know what else to say to you that I haven’t said before.” Now tears actually came down her eyes and her mascara started running. Gross.  
“Fine! I hope you and Harry live happily ever after since he’s the only one you’re gonna have after I’m gone! Goodbye, Louis!” She strode away after that. Louis tried not to think about anything she had just said…she couldn’t know. She was just being dramatic.

 

When he got out to the car, Harry was sitting there with his head lying on the headrest and his eyes closed. Louis knocked on the passenger seat’s door and Harry’s head sprung up as he unlocked the doors; Louis opened the door, threw his backpack in the back seat, sat down, and then just nodded at Harry.  
“So…?” Harry asked.  
“I think that it’s over forever.”  
“Really?” Harry had on a condescending smirk and raised his eyebrows, like he didn’t believe it at all.  
“Well, I mean, it is on my part. I hope she doesn’t come back again.”  
“You and me both.” Harry put the car in drive while he laughed.  
“You were getting so pissed off.”  
“When someone says that they kissed the guy you’re…ummm, doing this…with, on purpose, it’s gonna bring up some…ummm, feelings.”  
“I wanted to kiss you right then and there, but my judgment said that it’d probably be better not to.”  
“Whatta shame, I would’ve loved it.” Louis lovingly rolled his eyes with a smile.  
“I know.”  
“D’she say anything else?”  
“That she loved me. Oh, and she hopes that you and me live happily ever after together.” Harry looked at Louis with a worried face then back to the road,  
“What?” He sounded a bit distressed.  
“What are you whatting?”  
“The second part.”  
“You and me both.”  
“What’d she mean by that?”  
“Dunno.” Harry nodded and didn’t say anything after that.  
It was amazing how tiny phrases really fucked with Louis’ mind.

 

They kind of went crazy on each other that night, and ended up grinding against each other when they were making out with only underwear on, which made them both orgasm pretty early. That wasn’t what Louis remembers most about that night, though.  
Louis remembers not being able to fall asleep, even when Harry was the big spoon and held onto Louis like a teddy bear. He remembers repeating Eleanor’s words in his head over and over and over again:  
“I hope you and Harry live happily ever after since he’s the only one you’re gonna have after I’m gone!”  
This was the first time that Louis had actually started to think about the future for him and Harry. It was the first time that he really started thinking about what exactly they were doing…and what was it? Were they going to stay together when they left for college next year? Were they even together? What exactly was Harry to him? He was the person he loved more than anything else in this World…wait, what? Love? No, no, no, no, no. This was Harry. It was Louis and Harry. Harry and Louis. If the romantic type of love were ever factored into the equation, then things would get messed up. But were they going to get messed up anyway? Did they have an expiration date? What doesn’t have an expiration date?  
“I hope you and Harry live happily ever after”  
Did he want to stay with Harry? Did he want to be in a real, actual labeled relationship? In a way, Harry kind of was his Prince Charming; he was definitely charming enough to be titled ‘Prince Charming’. What they were doing wasn’t exactly just a best-friend-sort-of-thing: it was more of a romantic-sort-of-thing.  
“He’s the only one you’re gonna have”  
If Louis ever lost Harry, what would he do? Harry was his everything. He wasn’t sure if he could remember living without him…how did he do that? If Harry was Louis’ ‘only’, which, he really was, what would happen if anything got messed up? Harry was Louis’ best friend who probably knew Louis better than he knew himself.  
What was the point of all of this?  
What did he actually feel for Harry?

 

It was that night when he started questioning things about their relationship itself instead of questioning things about himself.  
He was scared.  
So he just chose to ignore it.  
And that really started to mess things up.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being really long...a lot happens. 
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who's been keeping up with the story!! Your amazing feedback keeps me writing and I'm amazingly grateful for having a reading audience as fantastic as you!! Thanks!! :)

Harry invited Louis to come to Long Beach Island with him for the summer. His Mom wanted him there when the baby was born. He mentioned it a week before finals while they were driving to school. Upon Louis’ request, Harry bought a new Radiohead tape that had replaced Oasis; they were listening to ‘High and Dry’.  
“My Mom said I could bring you…if you, ummm, wanted to come.” His hesitancy was adorable.  
“Really? When’d you talk to her?” Louis tried not to show that he was about to jump out of his skin with excitement at the prospect of spending a summer with Harry.  
“When she called this morning.”  
“She called this morning?”  
“She usually calls three or four times a week.” This was the first time Louis heard about this.  
“Oh…I didn’t know that.”  
“I, ummm, thought you did. I’m sorry.”  
“No, no, Hazza; there’s nothing to be sorry about. I knew that she called you, but I just didn’t know it was that often. Long distance parenting?”  
“I guess.” Harry smirked. Louis was actually glad to hear this. He and his Mom seemed to be much closer than they were in the past, and she was clearly trying to put in the effort to stay in Harry’s life…or make up for not being in it in the past.  
“Haz, spending the summer with you…that sounds amazing. I haven’t actually accepted the job at the swim club yet, so I think I can…I just need to see if my parents will be okay with it.”  
“Yeah…” Harry sounded worried, and quite frankly Louis was too, he just tried not to show it, “do you think that your, ummm, Dad will let you?”  
“Dunno…” Louis sighed. Chances were that he would have to put up a fight. “I hope so.”  
“Me too. I, ummm, I dunno how I’ll get through it…without you.” Harry laughed awkwardly; he was trying to hide the melancholy in his confession of how much he relied on Louis. Louis could easily see that, though. These days, Louis could read Harry like an open book with huge font just by glancing at his face or hearing his voice. They had been with each other through so much and for so long that it was an unusual occurrence if one of them couldn’t read the other. Harry didn’t know how to get through the summer, let alone the new half-sibling, without Louis, and Louis couldn’t blame him. Louis put his hand on the armrest.  
“Hand?” He asked; it was their signal if one of them wanted to hold hands while Harry was driving. Harry smiled and put his right hand on the armrest, lacing their fingers together. Louis squeezed their hands. “I wouldn’t let you do it without me.” 

 

Louis asked around 8:00 that night.  
He had to put up a fight.  
His Dad didn’t even look up from the newspaper he was reading when he shot down the proposal immediately.  
“Why not?”  
“I don’t want you gone for the summer with him.”  
“Why?”  
“You? Spending the summer with his mother?” He sarcastically asked with scornful disgust.  
“You don’t even know her – ”  
“I don’t need to know her to know the things she's done.” Louis became aware of his heart pulsing rage instead of blood throughout each vein in his body…but mainly in his fists.  
“She’s not a bad person. She’s just a normal person who’s made a few mistakes.” Hid Dad huffed out. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe the life she was living wasn’t right for her and she needed to get out?” Louis realized he wasn’t talking about Harry’s mom and quickly backtracked himself: “You haven’t even heard me out – ”  
“You know what, Louis?” His Dad put down the paper he was reading, “Try me.” He could tell his Dad was pissed off, but Louis was going to put up a fight anyway. Louis remembers believing that he would always put up a fight if it meant he got to be with Harry in the end.  
That was then, though.  
“Okay.” Louis was suddenly very nervous as he felt his hands sweating and – were his hands in fists? “It would be a good experience to spend the summer away from you guys in preparation for college; I’ll learn how to be independent and how to live without you – ” ‘suffocating my soul’, Louis remembers thinking, “always being around and taking care of me. I’ve never done that before.”  
“Stop right there: you went to sleep away camp.”  
“Yeah, in fifth grade for two weeks.”  
“And you survived. You don’t need to practice leaving for college.”  
“That was in the middle of the woods. This time, I would have to learn how to live in the real World without you guys. I’d do my own laundry, learn how to sufficiently spend my money – ”  
“You already know how to spend money.”  
“Not on the basics like food and – ”  
“Harry’s Mom would have every basic thing you need so that argument is invalid. What’s your next?” Louis’ throat was starting to simmer with heat. He gritted his teeth before saying,  
“I was thinking that since I had a job for the past two summers, I don’t need another summer of work experience to put on my college application –”  
“Then you’ve clearly not retained any information I’ve told you about college. You’ll especially need the working experience in between your Junior and Senior year because colleges will pay attention to the most recent things you’ve done.” Louis realized his jaw hurt because he was clenching it so tightly, “I don’t think that ‘I spent my summer idling in Long Beach Island’ counts.”  
“It won’t be idling.”  
“Fine: gallivanting. But you won’t be making any money, and I definitely won’t be giving you any money for jaunting around.”  
“It won’t be a summer of just relaxing! They’re gonna need a hand with the newborn kid so Harry and I will help out – ”  
“First off, it’s not your child and you’re not related to it. You shouldn’t be raising it. I don’t want you becoming one of them.”  
What?  
“Me becoming one of them?” Louis could feel his heart beat in his lungs. Anger wasn’t even close to the right word of how Louis was feeling. He was just about at the boiling point. He felt like some animal was about to leap out of his body and go berserk on his Dad; it didn’t, though, which is why he probably freaked out two seconds later.  
When Louis looks back at it, he realizes that if one moment changed his relationship with his father, then it would be this moment.  
“Louis, it’s not a hidden secret that their family is dysfunctional – ”  
“Dysfunctional? You’re calling their family dysfunctional?” Louis was yelling at this point. “I can’t go anywhere or do anything without you breathing down my neck! You’re constantly criticizing me!”  
“Because I don’t want you to be screwed up like Harry is!” His Dad yelled back. And that was it. Louis lost it.  
“Harry! You’re calling Harry the screwed up one? He’s a better student than I am! He’s only ever been polite and kind to us! Mom loves him! Lottie loves him! I love him! Yet you’ve always had something against him and I don’t get why! Has he personally offended you? That boy wouldn’t hurt a fly! In fact, if a bug had a broken wing, I’m sure he would figure out a way to get it to fly again! You would just kill the fly!” Louis didn’t comprehend what he just said; he was focusing on not cursing.  
“Louis, look at his life! Look at his broken household! Look at him! He’s not a model person!”  
“Neither am I!”  
“You think of him like he’s a deity! He’s somehow warped your views on – ”  
“You consistently shoot him down like a bird without wings! You don’t even know him! You stop something before even giving it a chance. If it doesn’t fit your mold of ‘ideal’ right from the beginning, then it’s automatically a sin that you avoid like the plague!” That part wasn’t about Harry, but Louis kept going, “He’s a better person than me! He’s a better person than you!” His Mom walked into the living room.  
“Louis Tomlinson! Stop this right now!”  
“What is going on in here?” His Mom yelled into the chaos.  
“You never talked to me like this before you were friends with Harry; you were the perfect kid before you started associating with him!”  
“Well I’m not a kid anymore and I’m not perfect! Okay? Can you just accept that? Just accept me for who I am!”  
“This isn’t who you are!”  
“Would both of you stop!” His Mom yelled at a noise decibel high enough to signal a bat. Louis felt his blood freeze in that moment as steam came out of each and every pore in his body. There was probably enough steam to evaporate and form a small cloud.  
Fuck.  
What did he just do?  
“I need to – I need to get out.” Louis muttered to himself as he walked to open the sliding glass door that led to the back yard.  
“Louis Tomlinson, don’t you dare leave this house!” Louis slammed the back door without a second thought. He paced around the small back yard, specifically near the fence: that was the furthest away from the house he could physically get. He needed fresh air that wasn’t contaminated with his Dad’s beliefs. Inside, he could hear still his Dad yelling his argument through the glass, but this time to his Mom. “I don’t want him spending a summer with that kid and his deranged family! They’re a sickening example of a family and I’ll be damned if he’s going to become one of them! Haven't you seen what they’ve already done to Louis! Harry’s made him into – into this!”  
“They’re not a sickening example, Mark. They’ve gone about it differently than we did – ”  
“Are you honestly telling me that they’re better than us? That they’ve raised their boy better than we’ve raised our two children? They can’t even raise one kid correctly!” Louis had the strength in that moment to punch the glass door to get into the house and then punch his Dad. He didn’t, though, because his mind was starting to come back down from outer space and gravity was a bitch that hit him hard. Louis had basically just admitted to his Dad…  
Shit.  
That he was gay.  
He couldn’t be gay.  
He was not gay.  
He was not gay.  
He is not gay. He is not gay. He is not gay.  
But he told his Dad he loved Harry.  
He loved Harry?  
No.  
No he didn’t.  
Fuck.  
What did he just do?  
In a friend way, yes, of course he loved Harry.  
He just meant it in a friend way.  
That was it.  
That was it.  
Fuck.  
Fuck!  
What did he just do?  
“Harry isn’t a bad kid – ”  
“He’s a queer, Jay! I didn’t raise my son to go to Hell like they did!”  
“We don’t know that he is.”  
“It’s as plain as day!”  
“Does it matter if he’s Louis’ best friend?”  
“Yes! Have you seen the way he eyes our son? He's trying to convert him! I refuse to stand aside and let it happen!”  
“Don’t you have enough trust in Louis to not follow?”  
“No! I don’t! Did you hear everything he just said to me? He said those things to his own father!” Louis threw his head up to the sky, praying for anything: anything but this. Maybe even a God that could help him out of this shitty situation he’d put himself in. He prayed for the stars to shine bright enough so he could see faith; he prayed for them to burn as intensely and as full of hope as Harry’s eyes always did.  
They didn’t.  
Louis stopped pacing, turned around, and just looked at the high wooden fence. His chest was burning, and he was trying to catch his breath because apparently he had forgotten to breathe for the past few seconds. Each panel was the same shape and size; they had all been cut the same.  
The wood patterns on the panels were different.  
Who knew that wood could mock a person?  
Louis didn’t…well, until that moment.  
“Harry has convinced him that his lifestyle is natural. He's normalizing deviant behavior and Louis' letting him. What type of parents are we if we don't help our son understand this is a sin? What happens when we allow righteousness to look increasingly strange and sin to look increasingly normal? Accepting this behavior will not help any of us: not you, not me, not our daughter, and especially not Louis. We're all in this now. If he goes down, we're all just as bad for letting him go down. He'll take us down with him. I will not let our son be led down the path of indecency, not only for his sake, but for our family's. I'm trying to help him but he refuses to see it! You heard the things he said, you saw the way he acted: he's been brainwashed! He's not our son!” Louis felt the burning tears fall from out of his eyes. They trickled down his cheeks, painting ‘you’re a disgrace’ on the trail that they left behind. Then more tears poured out, and he couldn’t even pay attention to their messages because the only thing he could hear was his failure to keep himself together.  
Louis remembers thinking to himself: fucking wood! And then he converted all of his pent up anger and frustration into strength as he slammed his right foot into one of the panels as hard as he could. Unfortunately, the wood was stronger than Louis, and his big toe bent backwards, making him choke in a scream. Louis sobbed harder than he had in a long time. He plopped down on the ground, clutching his foot while simultaneously trying to strangle his crying noises before they left his throat.  
“He's our son, Mark. He always has been and always will be. I want the best for him and our family just as much as you do. But, maybe..." Louis could hear the melancholy in his Mom's voice, "Maybe it would be better at this point to accept this phase and let him grow out of it on his own time – ”  
“No, Jay! This is not the Louis we know! This isn't our son!" He yelled with resistance. "I didn't raise a queer! He’s not going! He doesn’t belong there. I don’t want him there for a month. I don’t want him there for a week. I don’t want him there for a day. I don’t want him there for a minute. I don’t want him there! He belongs here, in a stable household, with his own family, and with a job of his own. I’m raising my son like any sane, righteous person would. He needs to work hard to get to where he needs to be, and he’s clearly not there right now. Harry has never been guided in his life! He gets everything handed to him and hasn't received an ounce of discipline. He's contaminated the principles we're trying to instill in Louis. That entire family has and will continue to try and break down the way of life that we know is right! Do you want that burden on your shoulders? To know that you could've stopped this from happening but didn't? No sane person can sleep at night knowing they had a hand in turning their son into a freak of nature.” Louis' entire body felt like it was hurled off of the Golden Gate Bridge. A freak of nature, so that's how his father saw him. Louis couldn't help it. Rivers spewed out of his eyes.  
"Mark!" His mother yelled with aggression. "This is Louis. He is our son. He is not freak of nature and don't you ever, ever call him that ever again. We will stand by him and support him as he passes through whatever phase or trial he's in."  
"And how do you suggest doing that?" “We should make a compromise with him.”  
“I do not compromise with sin.” His father stated, words sunken into cement.  
“Well if you want to keep your son you're going to have to."  
"What are you talking about?"  
"It’s not a secret that Louis’ mad at us right now. I don’t think that he sees the situation as we know it to be.”  
“Then let him be mad at me! He’ll learn from it and maybe leave the queer in the process.”  
“That's exactly what’s going to drive Louis away from us, not to us.”  
“No it’s not; you’re talking crap right now.”  
“Listen to me! We need to make a compromise with him so he won’t want to leave us as soon as possible.” His Dad started sputtering out a spew of profane words and Louis tuned himself out of the conversation. He ran his hands through his hair and gripped tight on the short strands then pulled to try and get himself to stop weeping like a child.  
It only made him shed more tears, as now his toe and his scalp were in physical pain, matching how torn apart he was feeling on the inside. His organs were ripped out of his body, shredded, and then fed to vicious vultures that just shredded up the pieces up even more. Louis really hoped that things would start to fall in place just like Harry said they would a few months ago. He needed things to fall in place.  
If this is where his place was supposed to be…well, Louis remembers thinking that he was seriously fucked over. 

 

His Mom opened the door about twenty minutes later. Louis was still holding onto his foot, his face dried of tears, and his body cold. “Louis, I’m about to make a cup of tea. Would you like one?” Louis sniffled and turned around to see any trace of emotion; she looked just as she always did. This had to be a ploy. There had to be something else going on. He looked inside: his Dad was nowhere to be seen. Louis was getting nipped by unfriendly cold gusts of air.  
“Yes, please.” His voice scratched out. Some fearful part of Louis expected his Dad to come storming out any minute and throw all of Louis’ stuff at him as he told him to go live on the streets. As his Mom started to go back inside, he needed to ask, “Where’s Dad?”  
“He went up to bed.” There was no hint that his Mom was lying to him.  
“Oh.” He softly whispered.  
“Would you like to come back inside now?” Louis looked back inside one more time to make sure his Dad wasn’t there.  
There was no trace of him.  
Louis sniffled one more time as he nodded. “Come with me, then.” He hated that his Mom was treating him like a five year old who had just been released from time-out and was about to be asked ‘what did you do wrong?’ and ‘how do you plan to change things so you don’t behave this way in the future?’  
He was also grateful that she hadn’t exiled him outside for the night.  
So he used what little strength he had left to get up and tried putting pressure on his right foot, but it felt like someone was stabbing him from the inside of it. He limped into the house instead, his toe pounding and his head dizzy with an oncoming throbbing headache. He figured he should’ve expected things to fall to shit. His Mom walked him into the kitchen and made him sit at the table. She didn’t ask anything, and simply gave him an ice pack wrapped in a cloth. Louis put his foot on his Mom’s chair and put the ice on top of it. Meanwhile, his Mom put on the kettle and prepared two tea mugs before she sat down in Lottie’s chair. Louis could feel her gaze on him, even though his was fixed on his foot.  
“Well,” his Mom started, “while I don’t agree with how either of you handled this situation, it can still be worked out.” Louis felt the top of his mouth start tingling and tears threatening to welt up in his eyes again because no, this situation couldn’t still be worked out. “Your Dad and I have put together a compromise for this summer.” She was silent. The only thing he could hear was the ticking of the clock on the wall and the soft hum of the stove top. Louis had to look at her if she was going to tell him. He sighed and gazed across the table.  
“What is it?” He asked quietly.  
“If you get an A on your math exam, you can go down for a week.” He felt his heart start pumping violently and his body go weak.  
“Mom, I’m not gonna be able to do that.”  
“If you set your mind to it, I’m sure you can.” This was clearly a plan devised by his Dad to fuck Louis over. Louis let out a small chuckle at the sheer stupidity of the situation.  
“This is – this is absolutely…ridiculous. You do realize this, right?”  
“We're being generous – ”  
“This is generosity?”  
“Louis, listen to me: we only want the best for you. You’re going to need a job this summer no matter what, for experience and financial reasons. Being in a house with a newborn baby isn’t something you’re going to want to be doing for more than a day – ”  
“Mom,” Louis pleaded out softly, “Harry needs me.” His Mom sighed,  
“I know, Louis…I know.”  
“You do like him, don’t you?” He whispered out. Louis needed reassurance for, well…for a lot of reasons.  
“I think he’s a good kid.” She paused. Of course, there was always something, “However, I do think he has some…issues. For one, he is far too reliant on you and vice versa,”  
“I was the closest thing he had to family for a really long time, Mom. Now his Mom is trying to – ”  
“I’m not asking for you to defend him right now, Louis. I’m telling you what the compromise is.”  
“Yeah, and the compromise is – well it’s…” shit; the compromise was shit, “I haven't done anything wrong in this situation.” His Mom sighed again as the kettle started to coo its melody of boiled water. She got up to turn off the stove, poured the two mugs of tea, then handed one to Louis, and sat back down again with her mug in her hand.  
“Your behavior towards your father was unacceptable. You disrespected him – ”  
“He was personally attacking me!” Louis was started to get riled up again so he took a deep breath to stop that train from going down those tracks.  
“He was not personally attacking you – ”  
“Then you didn’t hear the whole conversation.”  
“Louis, I’m not going to argue with you right now; this house has had enough of that tonight to last us a month. I’m going to ask you to apologize to your father in the morning and I’m going to ask you if you would like to agree with this compromise or not.” Like? Would Louis ‘like’ to go along with the compromise? Louis chuckled and shook his head back and forth. He was a bit in disbelief at the moment.  
“Fine. If that makes you two happy, then I'll do it. It's not like my happiness should matter.” Louis took a quick sip of his tea, then grabbed the ice pack, got up, and said, “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” Then he limped out of the room and up the stairs to his bedroom. He tried not to show that he was in pain, when he was actually screaming on the inside with each treacherous step he took.  
After he calmly shut and locked the door to his room, he threw the ice on the ground, plopped down face-first onto his bed and screamed into his pillow. At this point, Louis wished that he’d just assumed his parents would say no to save himself from the mess he was currently in.  
And he was in one huge mess.

 

When he came down for breakfast the next morning with his toe now swollen, Lottie was already face first in her bowl of cereal, his Mom was drinking a cup of tea and reading a book, and his Dad was reading the newspaper while drinking coffee. The radio was in between emitting pure static and playing some horrible music. Either way, the whole set up of this breakfast was daunting. The tension in the room was suffocating. Louis quietly padded his way to the counter, got out a bowl, a spoon, a box of Cheerios, and milk, poured the cereal and milk into the bowl, and then sat down at the table. He stirred the cereal to avoid looking at anyone.  
“Good morning, Louis.” His Mom said nonchalantly.  
“G’morning.” He quietly murmured.  
Breakfast stayed quiet. If his Dad could shoot daggers out of his eyes before, then he could emit them with his aura now. That was very settling.  
His Mom ended up going upstairs to get changed, and Lottie finished her cereal and went upstairs to put on makeup: fucking teenage girls. It was only Louis silently eating his cereal and his Dad reading, and still no contact between the two was made.  
His family really knew how to screw him over.  
Louis shoveled down his cereal in mounds so he could get out of the room as soon as possible. It was like being forced to eat at a table with someone who spoke a foreign language and no form of communication could be attempted: there were just too many differences. After he finished and put his bowl in the sink, he cleared his throat and looked at his Dad.  
“I’m sorry for how I acted last night. I disrespected you, and I apologize.” His Dad finally veered up from his newspaper, face stone cold, and he looked at Louis like he was a stranger who had accidentally bumped into him on the street and apologized. He nodded, and then his focus went right back down to the newspaper. Louis felt…well, he didn’t know at the moment, but his Dad just looked at him like he was scum. “Have a good day.” He said before hobbling out of the kitchen.  
His Dad still didn’t respond. 

 

Harry knew something was off when Louis got into the car.  
“Why are you limping?” Harry asked with his furrowed brows. He bit his full bottom lip and Louis was just not ready to talk about this yet.  
“I, like, accidentally, like, stubbed my toe on my bed.”  
“You're lying to me.” Harry said matter-of-factly.  
“Haz, if I promise to talk about this later, can you please start driving?” Harry sighed. He looked remarkably distressed by the question, but let it be.  
“M’kay.” He put the car in drive and they were off. Louis leaned his head against the window and looked at the passing scenery. ‘Fake Plastic Trees’ was playing this time. It was amazing how calm Louis felt the minute he stepped out of his house and into Harry’s car. The car was really a safe haven for Louis…or maybe it was Harry himself. He didn’t know at that point. He just knew that he was okay for the moment. “Hand?” Harry asked. Louis looked at the armrest to see Harry’s hand resting there. He sighed solemnly to himself, and put his hand on top of Harry’s. Harry, as always, entwined their fingers into a perfect knot; Louis felt the most decent he had in the sixteen hours that they spent apart.  
He wanted to give Harry everything.  
Really. He wanted to give him everything.  
But how was he supposed to do that when everyone else didn’t want him to?  
How was he supposed to do that when his family forced him not to?  
How was he supposed to do that if he wasn’t physically capable of fully giving everything over to Harry?  
How was he supposed to when he didn’t know how?  
‘It wears me out, it wears me out, and if I could be who you wanted…all the time’.  
Harry squeezed Louis’ hand.

 

It seemed that at lunch, Harry had enough of not knowing what was going on. He grabbed Louis right as he was walking out of his history class and dragged him outside. He and Louis walked around campus instead of eating. That was fine with Louis because if he had anything to eat, he would probably throw up…nerves and everything.  
“So…” Harry dragged out in his deep voice. Louis really did love his voice. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but it was just so…unexpectedly stunning. They were walking around the outskirts of the baseball field. “Did you ask?”  
“Mhmm.” Louis murmured with his lips closed. His toe still hurt like a bitch.  
“I’m guessing it didn’t go well?” Louis sighed.  
“I kicked the fence and now my toe is about as puffy as your hair.”  
“Lou – ”  
“No, I’m serious. And it really hurts. Can we sit?” Louis stopped walking, took a grasp onto Harry’s waist, and pulled him closer, “Sit. Not walk.” Harry stopped walking, looked Louis in the eye, puffed out a large breath, and then descended onto the grass. He patted the space next to him. Louis plopped down next to Harry and lay on his back with his knees bent upwards. It was cloudy, so the sun wasn’t glaring into his eyes as he looked up at the sky. Louis felt Harry place his head onto his own stomach as he lay down perpendicular to Louis. Louis linked his fingers into Harry’s hair; it was a bit breathtaking how tranquil the World seemed at that moment.  
“What’d you say?” Harry’s voice vibrated in his throat, which then resonated Louis’ stomach. This was a good type of feeling in his stomach, and God only knows how little of those he’d had recently.  
“What would you do if you saw a bug with a broken wing?”  
“What?” Harry giggled a bit. The sound and feel put a small smile onto Louis’ face.  
“If you saw a bug with a broken wing, what would you do?”  
“Ummm…I dunno…is this, like, a trick question or something?”  
“No, I just…I said you would help it.”  
“I’m really confused right now; you talked about what would happen if I saw a bug with a broken wing? That was the conversation?”  
“It was a part of it.”  
“Okay…”  
“I told my Dad he would kill the bug.”  
“Even I know that’s not how you get on his good side.”  
“I think I’ve been banished from the good side for a very long time.”  
“What are you talking about?” Harry put his right hand on top of Louis’ left knee and started gently stroking it. Louis realized that if some bystander walked by, they would see how touchy the two of them really were. They couldn’t help it, though; there was always the need to be closer and to touch whenever they were around each other.  
“We got in a fight because he was adamant about me not going and I kicked a fence.”  
“You kicked a fence…and can’t go?” Harry sounded completely helpless.  
“Well…not exactly, no. My parents made a compromise with me that if I get an A on my math exam, I can go for a week. But, we both know that’s not gonna happen, so…” Harry was silent. He still continued to stroke Louis’ knee, though, as if he also realized the compromise was meant to screw Louis over. Louis really hated all the things that were popping up out of nowhere to keep him and Harry apart. Things were never like this five months ago…but then again, he and Harry weren’t like this five months ago.  
“Do they…ummm, not…like me?” Harry asked cautiously. Louis started massaging Harry’s scalp. They both knew the answer to the question; Louis didn’t really want to answer.  
“You know how my Dad is.”  
“Yeah…”  
“But I like you. So that’s all that really matters.” Suddenly Harry pulled his head up and off of Louis’ stomach, the movement leaving Louis’ hand missing the warmth of his curls. Harry was sitting, looking down at Louis with the sky casting its light behind him. There was a plush round cloud sitting directly behind his head, and Louis swore that even the light from the sun didn’t compare to the light Harry’s eyes emitted: endless hope. The green in his eyes was like that of a perfect garden. It always seemed like Harry thought he had the power to make anything happen.  
Louis really believed that then, too.  
“How bad was the fight?” Louis looked down and took Harry’s left hand in both of his. He started playing with Harry’s fingers, just admiring his hand; his short, smooth rounded nails, the skin that crinkled over his knuckles, the small hairs that lingered on the surface of his fingers, and the huge watch he recently started wearing that was fixed on his thick, yet completely delicate wrist. It was sent from his Dad. Louis could still see his now faded birthday bracelet underneath the watch.  
“Pretty bad…I kicked the fence.”  
“I know you kicked the fence. Why’d you do that?”  
“I was frustrated.”  
“About what?”  
“My Dad…he just – ” Louis moved his gaze from Harry’s fingers up to Harry’s face, “he doesn’t wanna accept any change to the norm. And now he won’t talk to me and he looks at me like I’m some despicable hobo asking for money on the street.” Harry bit his bottom lip, quickly looked around him, then dived down and pecked Louis’ lips with his own for a millisecond. Louis felt his heart pick up its pace a hundred times faster as his cheeks flushed. He sat up and immediately checked their surroundings, “I already checked.”  
“I’m double checking.” There was no one there. Just the field.  
“Sorry.” He pointed his gaze back onto Harry and saw his downcast face. Louis felt horrible that Harry looked ashamed of what he just did; he wanted to take the guilt out of Harry’s eyes. Louis cupped Harry’s cheeks in his hands before briskly pecking him on the lips and then laying back down. He looked up to see Harry smiling with his charming dimples.  
“Sorry.” Louis said, imitating Harry’s words. Harry tapped Louis’ nose once and Louis scrunched up his face, still smiling.  
“Now what?”

 

Now of course Louis didn’t get an A on his math exam. That would’ve been a totally unexpected miracle. He ended up with an 83 on the exam and an 80 in the class. Harry, on the other hand, passed with flying colors in every single one of his classes. He was just naturally smart; Harry put in as little effort as he could and always ended up with a good grade. For every hour Harry spent on his work, Louis spent two and ended up with a full grade mark lower than Harry.  
So instead, Louis and Harry planned.  
Louis would be a lifeguard for the summer at the local pool and Harry would go to Long Beach Island…only to come back every other Saturday to be with Louis. Louis would lie to his parents and say he was sleeping over one of his other friend’s houses, when, in actuality, he would spend every other Saturday night wrapped in Harry’s arms. They would spend Sunday together since Louis didn’t have to work then, and Harry would drop Louis off a block from his home in the afternoon so his parents wouldn’t see Harry’s car. Then Harry would make the two-hour drive back to his Mom’s house.  
And that’s exactly what they did. 

 

Louis knew he was supposed to be watching the pool, but he kept looking over at the entrance to check if Harry was there yet or not. It was the first weekend that they were supposed to follow the plan, and Louis was apprehensive as anything. They hadn’t seen each other in two weeks. Of course Louis called Harry every night after his parents went to sleep, but it wasn’t the same as seeing Harry in person. He missed his touch, his warmth, his lips, his eyes, his legs, his dimples, his – well his everything. Louis kept squirming around on the stand and tapped his fingers.  
“You okay?” He looked over at Josh; he was one of the lifeguards Louis was working with this summer. Josh was a year younger than Louis and apparently attended the same school as him, but Louis had never seen him before. Then again, Louis didn’t see a lot of people except for Harry so…there was that.  
“M’fine.”  
“You seem like you’re looking for something.”  
“Yeah, uh, my – ummm, my best friend is coming to visit today. I haven’t seen him in a while; he’s been down the beach.”  
“Oh…well you’re pretty skittish.”  
“Sorry.” God, now Louis was apologizing for stupid things? He really was spending too much time with Harry. They both swerved their gazes back to the pool, but Louis’ mind was still racing with questions about Harry: when’s he gonna get here? Why isn’t he here yet? It’s 5; he should’ve been here by now. Is he okay?  
He was so lost in his thoughts that he jumped back when he heard a voice say from down below, “Excuse me, lifeguard? I’m looking for my friend, but his mind is clearly elsewhere right now.” The deep, soothing, molasses voice was unmistakable that Louis didn’t even look before he leapt down from the stand and threw himself into Harry’s arms. Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’ upper body, while Louis clutched onto Harry’s waist; it was finally skin on skin and Louis didn’t realize how much he truly missed this until now. He never wanted to let go. Louis felt secure, warm, at peace, and at home. The two embraced like that for a few seconds, until they heard,  
“Louis?” Louis inhaled a deep breath full of Harry’s scent before unwillingly letting go of Harry to look up at Josh.  
“Josh, this is Harry. Harry, Josh.” Josh shyly waved down to Harry.  
“Hi, Josh. Sorry I distracted him.”  
“He’s been distracted all day; now he’s just distracted while not pretending to look at the pool.” Josh joked.  
“Distracted all day?” Harry looked at Louis, his face beaming with a huge smile and raised eyebrows.  
“Don’t get cocky.” Louis whispered to him; he could feel his face getting more crimson as the seconds flew by. He finally took a good look at Harry and…wow. He knew their hug was skin on skin, but he didn’t realize that Harry was wearing swim trunks and wow did his body look spectacular. Especially his legs, which had seemed to gain some muscle in the week and a half they were separated for. And he was tan. His skin now gleamed with a touch from the sun, and Louis suddenly had the intense urge to kiss him senseless. And his neck; the freckle on the left side of his neck was calling out to be sucked on and bruised. Louis realized he was really distracted and cleared out his throat.  
“Right…so, ummm, you’re gonna go swimming?”  
“I mean, I am wearing swim trunks. Although, I’m a bit unsure about it…what detergent should I use to clean them?”  
“Oh no.”  
“Tide. I should use Tide.” Louis couldn’t help but laugh at the idiotic pun. “And how am I supposed to say ‘hi’ to you while I’m swimming?” Louis just stood there with his arms crossed and a smirk threatening to break out on his face. The puns were so bad, but they were so endearing when they came out of Harry’s mouth. Then again, Louis would be okay with anything that had to do with Harry’s mouth. “I’ll wave…get it? Because waves – ”  
“I get it, Haz. You’ve been working on those for a while, haven’t you?” Harry shrugged.  
“I’ve just been waiting for the right time to use them.”

 

Apparently Harry was also waiting for the right time to use his tongue because it was licking some tremendous patterns all down Louis’ chest. They had gone back to Harry’s house that night, and right from the moment they stepped inside, Louis couldn’t take it anymore so he crashed his lips into Harry’s. Harry seemed pretty eager as well since he dissolved into the kiss and started licking his way into Louis’ mouth. Through a gasp, Louis was able to say, “Missed you” into Harry’s mouth; Harry repeated the phrase right back, and up to Harry’s room they went.  
Harry currently had Louis pinned down underneath him on the bed, both only in their boxers. He would lightly nip parts of Louis’ torso and then lick his tongue around the tender spot. Louis couldn’t take the temptation anymore so he swung them over until he was on top of Harry; his leg slotted in between both of Harry’s, his hands in Harry’s hair, and his mouth biting the area around the freckle on the left side of Harry’s neck. He sunk his teeth into the spot while simultaneously licking the soft skin. Harry moved his hands down to Louis’ ass, cupped the cheeks in his hands, and started massaging them. This just made Louis bite harder, and Harry moaned out a deep “omf”, and then Louis had no other option but to grind down into Harry’s hips. Louis knew he was hard, but he now felt how hard Harry was and, wow. Louis grinded down again, the feeling that shivered through his body each time he pressed down his hard length onto Harry’s was addicting. Harry groaned his hot breath into Louis’ ear “Fuck.”  
Louis only took a moments hesitation before unlatching his lips from Harry’s neck, then kissed his way down Harry’s chest. He could feel Harry’s breathing get faster as his stomach rose up and fell down at a much more hurried rate than it had a minute ago. That was when Louis licked a circle around Harry’s belly button, and then tracked his way down Harry’s naval until he got to the waistband of the boxers. He started toying his tongue underneath the band. “Lou” Harry pleaded in a scratched voice. Honestly, teasing Harry was getting Louis harder than when he grinded down onto him. Louis loved the fact that his actions made Harry feel like this. Louis put his hands on Harry’s hips, bit onto the waistband, and started pulling them down. He briefly looked up to see Harry grasping onto the sheets and biting his full bottom lip, gasping for air. Then Louis just went for it.  
Louis abruptly used his hands to tug down Harry’s boxers to his calves. He felt Harry shimmy them off completely as he took hold of Harry’s length in his right hand and bit the inside of Harry’s right thigh. As he started pumping his fist, he could feel Harry’s thick cock throb in his hand. He’d given Harry hand jobs before, but there was something different about this time: he needed to be closer. A bit of pre-cum escaped out and leaked onto Louis’ hand; that was when he made up his mind that he would be closer. Louis took his mouth off of Harry’s thigh and swiftly moved it to the tip of Harry’s cock. He moved his hands down to start fondling Harry’s balls, and Harry clearly didn’t see this coming as he cried out “Fuck! Louis! Fuck!” and bucked up into Louis’ mouth a bit. Louis wasn't expecting the sudden jerk and gagged and pulled off. "Shit! I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"  
"Yeah, just...a little bit of a warning next time?"  
"Yeah, yeah, okay, sorry. I'm just kinda shocked so I don't really have control over my reflexes. But now that I know, I'll try better, I promise." Harry flustered out. Louis smiled because he found it a bit funny that Harry was apologizing for the blow job Louis was giving him. He didn't just want this to be a good experience for him, but also for Louis. Louis' heart grew a little bit bigger knowing how much Harry cared about him. "I wasn't expecting this."  
"Neither was I. Heat of the moment, I guess. Just lie back and let me try again." Harry did as he was told, even though he was breathing exceptionally heavily. Louis opened his jaw as wide as he could and took in as much of Harry’s pulsating, red, stout cock that he physically could; it was only about halfway down his shaft, but Harry seemed to love it. His throaty moans came out as "Ahhh, ahhhh." Louis began to move his mouth up and down Harry's length, and then involuntarily Harry bucked up. The pressure near the back of his throat was too much to handle, and Louis gagged once again as his teeth accidentally dragged along on Harry's cock. He pulled off. Harry looked traumatized.  
"Shit, shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He rushed out.  
"It's okay." And he meant it; the burn at the back of his throat was gone.  
"I don't mean to do it, I just - "  
"Harry, it's seriously okay. Calm down. It's my first time doing this, so...I'm just getting used to the feeling. I promise, it's okay."  
"Okay." Harry visibly relaxed. He pushed his hand through Louis' hair. "You're doing really, really, really good." Louis felt himself blush.  
"Thanks."  
"Maybe, ummm, try folding your lips over your teeth? And you don't have to go down as far if it's not comfortable for you." It sounded like good advice.  
"I can try that."  
"M'kay." Louis went at it again, following in Harry's suggestions. He tried to focus breathing in and out of his nose and concentrated on not biting down. When he got moderately used to the feeling, he moved his tongue along the underside of Harry’s shaft. “Lou – Lou, ahhhh, Louis!” Harry gasped out between his shallow intakes of air. Louis knew Harry was losing it: he felt Harry’s stomach and thigh muscles contracting. This only made Louis try and push his mouth down further on Harry’s length. “I’m – Lou” the only thing Louis was focused on at this point was making Harry cum, even if his jaw was starting to tense up and ache. He tried flicking his tongue while he moved up and down Harry's shaft. "Ouuu, ahhhh, yeah, oh God, yeah." Harry moaned. Then he switched to continuously lick around the bottom and sides of Harry’s cock without hesitation and used his hands to knead Harry's balls. “Lou! Lou, get off!” Harry howled out and Louis felt a sudden rush of warm liquid fill up inside his mouth as Harry’s cock vibrated. He pulled off, but Harry's cum was still spilling out, spreading along Louis' lips. Curiosity got the best of him, and he swallowed the little that was in his mouth. It tasted like salt water that sat in a bottle left out in a hot car for days. And fuck, no matter how strange it tasted, Harry just came into Louis’ mouth and that was really fucking hot. He used his fingers to wipe the cum on his lips, then licked them clean. Okay. Maybe this taste wasn't so bad after all.  
He moved up to put his hands on both sides of Harry’s face and kiss him sweetly on his forehead. Harry’s panting had calmed down, and as Louis was just looking at that beautiful face, he became conscious of how hard he still was; he’d already leaked pre-cum in his own boxers if the wet spot was anything to go by, and his cock was pulsating against the boxer’s waistband. Without warning, Harry snatched onto the sides of Louis’ waist and pulled them up so they were facing each other, both on their knees. He looked at Louis with wide, blown-open eyes and a red flushed face, and then he dipped down to promptly push Louis’ boxers to his knees before attaching his own mouth to Louis’ cock and “Fuck!” he cried out.  
Harry’s lips were made for sucking cock. There was officially no doubt about it. They were already plump and red and wide and open and they were fucking on Louis’ fucking cock. Louis couldn’t seem to catch a breath. Harry wrapped his huge hands around Louis’ ass that just pulled him in closer and deeper into Harry’s mouth: his warm, wet mouth that Louis had explored in the past with his tongue. But this…fuck, this might be better.  
Harry started flicking his tongue around the underside of Louis’ shaft and Louis felt like he was he was going to explode. He would literally implode into pieces because this was so fucking good. Louis was elated at the highest form of sexual drive he’d ever had in his life up to that point. He could feel Harry’s breath from his nose hit the base of his own cock. Harry rubbed his long fingers into Louis’ butt cheeks and Louis swore that his bones were on fire. They were actually burning in erotic shock. “Fucking shit, ouhhh, oh God – Harry!” Louis threw his head back and slammed his eyes shut as he bucked forward into Harry’s mouth. Then Harry ran his tongue over the slit of Louis’ cock and Louis immediately lost it. His whole torso tightened up and that white light of pleasure stemmed to each nerve and particle in his body as he came into Harry’s mouth. He didn't have time to warm Harry, but he could feel Harry’s mouth narrow in around his cock and he swallowed without a problem. Holy shit, his nerves were on fire.  
After Harry took his mouth off of Louis’ cock, Louis opened his eyes to the dark room, and just fell down back first on the bed, looked up at the ceiling, and tried to catch his breath while comprehending what just happened. He felt Harry push the boxers that were still wrapped around his knees off and yes. That did just happen. That really happened.  
Harry laid down with his head in between the space of Louis’ neck and right shoulder, and softly kissed the bottom of Louis’ chin.  
“Wow.” Louis breathed out. Harry chuckled.  
“Wow.” They stayed like that for a minute while Louis regained his ability to breathe like a normal human being. Harry turned so he was laying on his stomach and wrapped his right arm around Louis’ torso. Louis grabbed Harry’s forearm in his left hand and wrapped his right arm around Harry’s body. He could feel Harry breathing in the scent of Louis’ skin and his eyelashes fluttering on Louis’ neck.  
Nothing could make that moment better.  
Not a thing in the entire World.  
“Y’know…” Harry started out in a slow and rich voice, “if I’d known that was gonna happen after not seeing you for a week and a half, I would’ve gone away sooner.” Louis giggled at that and turned his head to rest on Harry’s soft curls.  
“Now you know.”  
“Cheeky.” Harry murmured into Louis’ neck.

 

They usually slept in on Sundays and got Chinese food delivered to Harry’s house for lunch. Most of the day they would catch up on the past two weeks events that hadn’t been talked about on the phone…then they would fool around. Louis would always make sure he left a large hickey somewhere on Harry’s body that would last at least a week. Harry wanted to leave one on Louis’ body too, though, and they finally figured out a place that no one would see: underneath Louis’ left bicep. It was their own way of rebelling. Louis would usually protest when Harry dropped him off a block from his house in the late afternoon because he didn’t want to leave. Honestly, Louis would count down the hours until he would get to see Harry again as soon as he got out of the car. It wasn’t that bad when he got home, though: his Dad never said more than a five-worded sentence to him ever since their fight.  
When Louis looks back on it, he realizes that he was pretending not to care, when he was really bottling up the disgrace, frustration, and shame he felt. 

 

Things were going great.  
Their plan was working out and everything was great.  
Harry would always do stupid things in the pool to make Louis laugh, like ‘accidentally’ not see the pool when he was walking and fall into the deep end or flop around like a fish when he was in the water. One time when the pool wasn’t crowded, he pretended to not be able to swim underwater and ‘drown’ so Louis would have to jump in the pool and ‘save’ him. That ended up with Louis carrying Harry in both of his arms as Harry rested his head on Louis’ chest and said, “My hero” with his sly, dimpled smile. Usually, though, he would flex his muscles and feign he was a pro-swimmer. It probably came off as really stupid to other people, but Louis remembers that he had to hide a growing boner on more than two occasions.  
One Saturday, a little kid named Lux accidentally hit Harry’s head with her sinking pool toys that she would throw around and then dive into the water to retrieve. She must have been about seven, and her Mom was sitting on a chair reading a book, so Harry decided to play with her. He picked her up and spun her around in the water, put her up on his shoulders, played the game of fetch with the sinking toys, and even pretended to be a dolphin at one point.  
“He’s really good with kids.” Josh remarked to Louis; Louis couldn’t help the fond smile that spread over his face. Louis just really adored Harry, “Does he have a younger sibling or something?”  
“His half-sibling is supposed to be born this month, so he will have one.”  
“Cool.” Josh nodded.  
He gave Harry a fantastic blowjob that night that left him quivering through the aftershock of his orgasm. Louis started to learn how to mold his mouth around Harry’s cock, and he started to love doing it. It was just really satisfying…that and the fact that Harry would blow him afterwards. As they say, ‘give and you shall receive’. And Louis was definitely receiving. 

 

Gemma Anne Twist was born on July 20th, 1997. Louis got the call from Harry around 7:00 that Sunday night. She was given the last name of her father, Robin; Harry said he would explain later. The call only lasted about five minutes because he had to go, but he did inform Louis that a new rule was being placed in their house that no calls could be made or received after 8:00 because it could wake Gemma up. This was inconvenient because Louis’ parents usually went to bed at 10:00, but he told Harry that he understood.

 

They didn’t get to talk again until the upcoming Saturday. When they got to Harry’s house, Louis noticed how pale Harry’s face looked and how crinkled the lines under his eyes were. Louis put both of his hands on Harry’s face and just looked into his eyes; he looked happy, but with an undertone of melancholy that Louis really wanted to wipe away.  
“Missed you.” Louis whispered. Harry half-heartedly smiled and put his hands on Louis’ waist.  
“Missed you.” Louis pulled Harry’s face into his and softly kissed him. It was a light kiss, with both of their lips falling easily into place. Louis tried to be as affectionate as possible. When he pulled away, he opened his eyes to see Harry smiling a bit brighter than before.  
“D’you wanna sit and talk?”  
“Ummm, okay.”  
So they sat on the couch, Harry wrapped up in Louis’ arms, and just talked.  
“How’s Gemma?” Harry was playing with the fabric on Louis’ shirt.  
“She’s good. Really cute. Mom says we have the same face shape. It’s, ummm, kinda weird not being an only child anymore. She’s really…tiny.”  
“Well yeah, Haz, she’s a baby.”  
“Yeah, but like, she just fits into my arms when I hold her. Her feet are half the size of my hand.”  
“You have really big hands.” He felt Harry sigh into Louis’ chest and felt the need to reassure him, “I like your hands.” Louis said as he took Harry’s right hand in his left. Harry braided their fingers together tightly.  
“She cries a lot. She’ll wake up, ummm, three or four times during the night, so I haven’t really gotten that much sleep.”  
“She’ll learn how to sleep normally at some point.”  
“Yeah. It’s still ummm…kinda weird that I’m related to her. Like my Mom has another kid now that isn’t me. And she’s family…but at the same time, not really…if that makes sense. Dunno. It’s just strange…but I do love her.”  
“You’re helping out a lot?”  
“Mhmm. Robin’s usually at work from eight to five, and Mom is usually really exhausted during the day, so I’ll watch Gemma while Mom takes a nap. Gem doesn’t really do much besides make noises, poop, eat, and sleep. And I’ve already had to clean her diaper three times. It smells really bad.”  
“Potty-train her as soon as possible.”  
“Mhmm…” Harry paused. It sounded like he wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure how to,  
“What is it?” Louis asked. He squeezed Harry hand.  
“Ummm…so, ummm,” Harry started fiddling with Louis’ shirt even more, “Robin took me out to lunch on Wednesday. And he, like, he ummm…he asked me if he could marry my Mom.” Well this was something,  
“Oh…what’d you say?”  
“I said it was okay.” Louis rubbed Harry’s back as Harry snuggled in closer to Louis’ chest.  
“That’s good.”  
“Yeah…like it was just…strange. I dunno why he asked me.”  
“You’re her son.”  
“I know, but I’m not, ummm, in charge of her or anything.”  
“I think he just wanted to know if it would be okay if he officially joined the family.”  
“They have their own family now.” Harry barely uttered out.  
“Hazza.” Louis disconnected their hands and used his hand to lift up Harry’s chin. He was biting his bottom lip while looking into Louis’ eyes, “You are her family. She’s just…adding onto it. Now you’re apart of a bigger family.”  
“Sometimes, it just, ummm…doesn’t feel like that. It feels like she has her own family now that I’m not apart of. Like everything was fine, but it’s like all of a sudden…I just don’t feel like…one of them. I’m not a Twist like Gemma is, and now my Mom is gonna be a Twist too and I’m just…Styles. I know my Dad is, but…he’s more like a really close friend than a Dad. I mean I love him like my Dad, but he’s not really…here. Like a Dad should be. And I get that. I do. It’s just that sometimes…I kinda wish I was apart of your family or something.” Louis couldn’t help but chuckle at that. He moved his hand to Harry’s cheek and started stroking it with his thumb.  
“No you don’t; you really wish you had my Dad?”  
“I mean, as unfair as he can be, he’s always looking out for you. Both of your parents are always there.” That was one way to look at it…unfortunately, Harry had never gotten into a fight with Louis’ Dad, so he didn’t see Louis’ family situation for how it actually was.  
“Yeah…I guess. It’s just…sometimes I wish I wasn’t a Tomlinson. Like I wonder what it would be like to have a Dad who wasn’t always judging me or trying to control every little thing I do. And even when he’s not here, I can hear this voice in the back of my head that sounds like him telling me ‘you’re gonna go to Hell if you do this’ or something like that. Honestly, I kinda wish I had a Dad more like yours.” Harry giggled a bit into Louis’ chest, “What?”  
“It’s just…we both don’t really fit in where we’re supposed to, do we? I don’t feel like a Styles and you don’t feel like a Tomlinson.” In truth, this was accurate. Louis had never thought about it before, but he didn’t feel like a Tomlinson. He could never be what his Dad wanted him to be; ever since their fight, it was like his Dad had revoked Louis’ Tomlinson-ness and barely ever looked at him anymore. In a way, Louis felt like his Dad had disowned him. He was hiding this whole situation with Harry from his family. The only time Louis could ever be himself without any hesitation was when he was with Harry. Everything felt perfect when they were with each other. Then he realized,  
“We fit in with each other, though.” Harry’s smile created a light that could burn as bright as the sun.  
“Yeah…we do.”  
“We’re like…Styles-Tomlinson…” Louis looked up and tried to think of a name, “Tomlinsty…Tomles…Stytoms…”  
“Stylinson?” Louis looked down at Harry’s face. Endless hope: that’s all that ever flowed out of Harry’s eyes. And Louis wanted to fulfill all the wishes, dreams, and desires Harry ever had: Harry deserved it. He pulled Harry’s face up to his own and leaned down to tenderly peck Harry on the lips.  
“Stylinson.” He repeated.  
So they were the Stylinson’s.  
And Louis felt like he belonged.  
Yep.  
Louis belonged with Harry.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh goodness...well, hello wonderful readers!  
> These next few chapters are just gonna break my own heart so I'm sorry in advance.  
> What I see happening right now is one more very long chapter like this one and then we'll be halfway through!!!  
> I'm still working out how exactly I want to structure the upcoming two chapters to deal with the transition from past into present, so the next update should be out in a week or so. I'm sorry for the wait!
> 
> That's all I can think of for now. I hope you enjoy this update!!! Thanks for reading :)

Louis thought he belonged with Harry.  
What he actually spoke to people was much different.  
Outside of his parents, the first person to question his relationship with Harry was Josh. It was on a slow Monday after he’d spent the weekend with Harry; there were only three families and four groups of friends swimming. Louis was particularly interested in the mom with her two kids. The older brother, who looked to be about nine, was playing with his younger sister who couldn’t have been older than six. It reminded Louis of him and Lottie from years ago.  
“How long have you and Harry been friends for?” Josh randomly asked.  
“Umm…I think it’s been five years now.”  
“That’s a while.”  
“I guess.” Louis wasn’t really sure when he and Lottie became so distant. It seemed like in the past month she had stopped talking to him about random girl stuff and didn’t look up to him anymore. As annoying as she could be, he kind of missed her nagging.  
“You guys seem…really close.”  
“I mean, that’s what happens when you’re friends with someone for so long.” Louis averted his attention to a twenty-something guy who was playing with his daughter. That just reminded Louis of Harry playing with Lux and he felt his stomach swoop. It was amazing how much Louis could miss Harry after not even eighteen hours of being separated from him.  
“Yeah, but like…my best friend and I have known each other for seven years. Don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but we don’t really…act like you and Harry do.” Louis looked at Josh; he felt his heart beat getting faster.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Just…okay. For one: the way you two hug. I’ve never seen guys who are friends hug like that before.” Louis started anxiously laughing out of nerves and fiddled with his fingers. Why was he so nervous?  
“Josh, you’re talking shit right now.”  
“No, it’s…your relationship with him confuses me.”  
“Well, I dunno…it’s just how we work.”  
“I’ve never seen guys who are best friends work like that before.” Louis chuckled out a laugh of disbelief.  
“What do you want me to say? Do you have a problem with how I go about my relationships?”  
“No, no, I – forget I mentioned it.”

 

Louis tried to forget the conversation, but he unintentionally stored it in the back of his mind and started worrying about it. He remembers trying to convince himself out of worrying: there was nothing to worry about. He and Harry were just best friends. They were best friends…who occasionally kissed. Why? Because it was fun and they felt like it. That was it. And Louis repeated that to himself everyday: it was like he was trying to convince himself.  
And it was working…until he forced Lottie to get ice cream with him the next Sunday afternoon while his parents were out grocery shopping. He drove them to the local shop and tried to start a conversation, but nothing was working.  
“How’s camp?”  
“Good.”  
“I forget: what show are you guys putting on?”  
“Peter Pan.”  
“Oh, right! When do you find out the cast list?”  
“Monday.”  
“Who do you wanna be?”  
“Mmm…dunno.”  
“You don’t know?”  
“I just wanna part.”  
“Okay…how are your friends?”  
“Fine.”  
That was the extent of the conversation in the car. At first, Louis blamed it on her impending teenage bitchiness that was about to overcome her whole being. Lottie was going into High School in the fall, and the whole ‘the World is mine’ demeanor probably caused her to stop talking to Louis.  
That was what he thought.  
What he actually found out was much different.  
They’d gotten their ice cream and were sitting at a table. While Louis dove into his, Lottie was playing with hers.  
“What’s wrong?” He asked with his mouth full to try and make her laugh. It didn’t work, though.  
“Nothing.” Louis was skeptical of this.  
“Something’s wrong or else you wouldn’t be acting like this.”  
“Like what?”  
“Like you no longer have a voice.”  
“I have a voice.” Lottie rolled her eyes and took a bite of her ice cream.  
“Doesn’t seem like it.”  
“Ummm, I have to – ummm, can I ask you…a question?”  
“Sure.” Louis figured it would be stupid, like, ‘why doesn’t this guy like me?’ or ‘why is my friend being a bitch?’ What he got was a definite contrast to those questions.  
“You and Dad…I heard you guys fighting a while ago…” Louis’ stomach sunk.  
“Lots, that was three months ago.”  
“Yeah, but I didn’t really hear the whole thing…” Louis started fiddling with his ice cream, his heart rate accelerating. He usually tried to block out the argument because the whole situation just enraged him; this wasn’t helping, “and you two haven’t been the same since.” She paused. Louis didn’t know what she was getting at and he didn’t want to know.  
“Okay.” Louis stuffed his mouth with a spoonful of ice cream to try and get this conversation to end. His stomach felt like it was in free fall.  
“And like…Dad talked to me last month…about it. Well, both Mom and Dad. While you were out…” Oh no. This wasn’t good. There was no way that this could turn out good; their parents talked to Lottie about the argument. Why did they need to do that? What could they possibly get out of it?  
“What’d they say?” Louis’ stomach should’ve been an acrobat for the Olympics team; it was doing some impressive flips.  
“It was about Harry…” Louis was in between a mix of fear and agitation. It seemed like now a days, Harry was becoming involved in every aspect of his life. He could never do anything without being reminded of Harry, Harry being mentioned, thinking of Harry, and imagining what he’d be doing if Harry were there with him. It was a never-ending cycle; “and I was just, like, wondering…does Harry…does he like guys?”  
Shit.  
“No.” Louis answered immediately. He tried to conceal the fact that his face felt like it was in a burning building that was his body and it was about to collapse and fuck, fuck, fuck!  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes.”  
“And…ummm, you two have never, like, kissed or – ”  
“No. Lottie, I – no.” Quite frankly, Louis was speechless in that moment. The only thing running through his mind was ‘what the fuck did they tell her’. They both stayed silent for a few seconds as Lottie took a bite of her ice cream. Louis lost his appetite.  
“Okay.” She finally said, “I just wanted to make sure– ” That was when everything clicked together.  
“Did they ask you to ask me that?” Lottie’s eyes were blown open and full of guilt as she struggled to get words out.  
“I…ummm,”  
“They did, didn’t they?” Louis would’ve hated to see his face in that moment. He was guilt-tripping Lottie into taking blame for what was his mistake in the first place; he felt like a piece of shit, but he needed to know.  
“Louis – ”  
“Don’t…I honestly can’t believe this right now.”  
“Please don’t tell them!”  
“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me for the past month?”  
“Dad said to give you some space so you could sort things out. They don’t like how much time you two spend together. Dad said he was suspicious.” Louis was infuriated. There weren’t words for what he’d just found out: his Dad had tried to isolate Louis’ own sister from him.  
“Of what!” Louis yelled.  
“I dunno of what! He just said he was suspicious of Harry.”  
“There’s nothing to be suspicious of! It’s just Harry!”  
“I didn’t want to – ”  
“Why did you just listen to them? Why didn’t you ask me right from the start?”  
“Louis, I’m really, really, really sorry.”  
“I can’t…get your ice cream. We’re leaving.”  
“Louis – ”  
“We’re leaving right now! C’mon.” Louis was in his own state of rage at this moment. He forced himself out of his seat, stormed to the trashcan to chuck out his ice cream, and barged his way out of the door. He didn’t check if Lottie was behind him or not. Everything felt like it was moving at the speed of light; everything was happening too fast. His entire being felt like it was a nuclear bomb about to drop out of a moving airplane and detonate.  
Louis remembers thinking ‘why is this happening? What have I done to deserve this?’ then he remembered he started kissing Harry. And he lied through his teeth multiple times about it…but it was only to protect both of them. If this was the out lash when people didn’t actually know what he and Harry did, what would it be when they found out the truth? Louis was protecting them, because technically, they were sinning. And now Louis had sinned in more than one way. Apparently that was why he was being screwed over.  
So maybe he did deserve this.  
That didn’t change the fact that his Dad tried to ostracize him. And he was seriously pissed off about that. He was about ready to punch a wall.

 

They spent the car ride back home in silence. His parents weren’t home when they got back, so when Lottie went out to ride her bike, Louis went straight to the phone in the basement and called Harry. He felt his right hand holding the phone shaking as he paced back and forth, the cord tangling around his body.  
“Hello?” The voice that picked up was that of a deep man’s, and it wasn’t the smooth, calming, sweet molasses of Harry’s. Louis figured it was Robin’s.  
“Hi.” Louis noticed his voice was shaking and took a deep breath. “Umm, is Harry there?”  
“May I ask who this is?”  
“Umm, this is Louis Tomlinson.”  
“Oh, Louis! Hold on one second.” Robin knew who he was?  
“Thanks.” Louis nervously laughed as he heard the phone line rustle. There was a faint crying in the background; Louis figured it was Gemma’s. He started bouncing on his toes because he didn’t know what else to do with the energy from his anxiousness.  
“Louis?” Louis’ stomach spun around. Finally: the voice he’d been aching to hear. Louis’ rage seemed to disappear the second Harry said his name. He suddenly felt very faint.  
“Hi.” He weakly let out.  
“What’s wrong?” Louis spun around to untwist himself out of the phone cord and then sat down on the couch.  
“Remember the argument I had with my Dad?”  
“Yeah…”  
“So I took Lottie out to get ice cream and apparently my parents talked to her about it.”  
“What? Why?”  
“Get ready for this” Louis let out a spiteful chuckle, “she said that my Dad told her to give me some space so I could, and I quote, ‘sort things out’. Sort things out! What the fuck does that mean? That they need to keep my own little sister away from me because I’m such a bad influence? Then she said both of my parents don’t like my relationship with you and my Dad is suspicious of it and they fucking asked her – they asked her, Harry – to ask me if you liked guys and if we’d ever kissed and I can’t fucking believe it! Can you believe that? They have the nerve to try and turn my own sister against me because my Dad is fucking ‘suspicious’. It doesn’t even make sense; I haven’t done anything wrong to them and they’re treating me like a virus that needs to be contained before I kill a whole fucking society – ”  
“Louis, Louis, you’re ranting; take a deep breath.”  
“I fucking can’t, Harry! It’s like the three of them have been plotting against me for the past fucking month! Well, no, it had to be longer than that. I don’t even know what to think.” His throat started to sizzle. “It’s like, everything I think I’m doing right: nope! It’s fucking wrong! There’s always something else going on and I feel like I can’t – I don’t have any control anymore.” Louis felt his eyes start to welt up with tears. “I don’t know what I’m doing…Harry…I don’t know what I’m doing.” There was nothing else Louis could say. Tears trickled down his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fuck.” He could hear Harry’s breathing through the phone line. Louis had no doubt he was waiting to talk until he was sure Louis’ rank was over.  
“Lou…are you okay?”  
“I dunno…it’s just like, so much shit has been happening recently and it sucks. I just want things to be okay. I don’t even care if they’re good; I just want them to be okay again…”  
“What d’you wanna do?” Louis sighed.  
“Dunno…” Louis really didn’t know what he wanted to do. He remembers knowing deep down, though, that things couldn’t start to get better with his family until he and Harry stopped doing whatever they were doing. But there was no way he would’ve been able to just stop. Louis never admitted it, but he always knew why that was the case. “Wish you were here.” He whispered into the phone.  
“Less than a week.” Harry whispered back.  
“One hundred and forty-four hours if we’re being exact.” He heard Harry’s giggle through the static of the phone line. His giggle could always make Louis smile; it was so innocent, pure, and undoubtedly Harry.  
“Actually, one hundred and forty-two.”  
“Glad to know I’m not the only one counting.”  
“At least I do it accurately.”

 

The next week was the definition of uncomfortable. From Monday through Friday, Louis spoke a total of thirty words to his Mom and only twenty-seven to his Dad. If they wanted Louis to have his space, he would create it himself. He and Lottie, on the other hand, started hanging out after dinner. Sometimes they watched a movie, but usually Lottie would gossip with him about the drama going on at camp; she never said she was involved in it, but by the impressive amount of time she could talk for, Louis figured she was probably in the center of it. Lottie never told their parents the answers to the questions, and Louis never told them he knew about it. In retrospect, that probably built up the resentment Louis had for them, but there wasn’t exactly another option he could think of at the time.  
Louis did start asking himself the same question every night that week: what am I doing with Harry? That question was starting to inwardly tear Louis apart. People were suspicious of their relationship. Louis kept telling himself that there was nothing to be suspicious of. They were best friends who had fun. That was all. So what if they sometimes used the other as a crutch? So what if they considered the other to be family? So what if they hugged? So what if they kissed? That’s what best friends are for…right?

 

He saw two teenage boys at the pool that week with the same hair as Harry and both times he had to psyche himself out of the belief that Harry was actually there. That’s probably why on Friday night, when Josh nudged him and said “Why is Harry here?” Louis didn’t believe him and wasn’t fazed at all. Lottie and four of her friends were swimming, so Louis kept his eye on them. There was this one boy who kept looking doe-eyed at his little sister and Louis had the strange urge to claw out his eyes and tell him to stop looking at her. His protective brotherly impulses were starting to sink in; he’d be damned if a guy tried to do anything to his innocent little sister.  
“Hah.” He responded monotonically. The Lottie-admirer was basically drooling out of his mouth. It was disgusting. Louis couldn’t wait until he did something stupid to try and impress her; Louis could blow his whistle and tell him to get the hell out. That wasn’t standard procedure, but he’d probably tell the guy to leave because he broke the first rule of Louis’ book: having the hots for his baby sister.  
“No, seriously, Lou; Harry’s here. Look.” Louis looked at the entrance to see none other than the real - or a really convincing doppelganger – Harry Styles walking up to him with a huge dimpled smile plastered on his face. Louis’ heart skipped a beat and he froze in his seat.  
Shit.  
Lottie was going to see him.  
There was no way she wasn’t going to.  
Louis tried shooing Harry out, but Harry didn’t catch on. He wasn’t sure what to do in that moment, so Louis faked a smile and told Josh, “Cover for a minute?” and without waiting for an answer, he hopped down off of the stand and ran over to Harry. Harry also took this the wrong way, as he opened his arms wide open; when Louis approached him with his arms in front of him to push Harry back out of the entrance, Harry picked Louis up off of the ground in a hug. In many other situations, it would be hot: this was not one of them. Louis started squirming around in his arms and said like a broken record: “Lottie’s here, Lottie’s here, Lottie’s here, Lottie’s here!” Harry quickly put Louis back on the ground and backed up from Louis, a look of confusion all over his face.  
“Where?” Harry asked quietly.  
“Over there!” Louis nudged his head backwards so he wouldn’t have to use his hand to point.  
“Shit. She’s waving at me.”  
“Fucking fuck!” Louis hung his head forward in defeat. Shit. This wasn’t going to be good. “Just wave back.” Harry put on his charming smile and waved straight to her over Louis’ shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Harry’s eyebrows creased and he folded his arms over his chest.  
“I thought I’d surprise you to cheer you up.”  
“Well, surprise! My little sister is here.” He was being snarky, but Lottie was here and he had no idea how to explain this to her.  
“How was I supposed to know this would happen?”  
“You could’ve called.”  
“Oh, you mean from your pool-side phone?”  
“Stop it: how am I supposed to explain this to her?”  
“Maybe that I came to see you because it was a surprise.” Harry’s eyes were transformed into ones of a puppy that had just been kicked.  
“Well that puts me right back into the hole I’ve been trying to dig myself out of if I tell her you came back here for the weekend just to see me.”  
“Why? I’m here for you Louis; how many other people would do this? Why can’t you just tell the truth for once? It’s not a bad truth.”  
“Maybe, I dunno…oh wait, it’s because I’d be fucked over if I did.” Louis explained sardonically.  
“Are you kidding me, Louis? I'm here for you; isn't that what matters? Do you really think Lottie cares?”  
"It doesn't matter if she cares: it matters if she tells my parents."  
"She's not going to if you tell her not to."  
"She worked against me for the past month. She avoided me and wouldn't trust me because my parents told her not to."  
"Then make her trust you again by telling her the truth."  
"I can't do that, Harry."  
"Why not?"  
"I just...I can't." Harry rolled his eyes and turned around to start walking away. Louis knew he was being an asshole, but that was because Harry had no right to show up unannounced because something like this could happen; he thought this was universally understood, but apparently it wasn't. Louis knew when Harry was supposed to come, and he could plan his lies in advance so they could be believable, consistent, and accurate. This wasn’t part of the plan.  
“You know what? Screw this. Figure it out yourself.” Louis ran forward and used his right hand to catch Harry’s right hip. Harry continued walking.  
“Where are you going?”  
“Home.” Louis squeezed Harry’s hip.  
“Stop.” Harry tried shaking Louis’ hand off of his hip.  
“Why? You don’t appreciate anything I do for you.”  
“That’s bullshit, Harry -”  
“No, it’s not! If you did, we wouldn't be having this argument right now.”  
“You don’t get it!” Harry finally turned around to look Louis in the eyes.  
“I don’t get it?" Louis saw tears hiding in the corner of Harry’s eyes. "You are so blind, you know that? I don’t think you holding onto my waist will help your impending lies.” Louis let go, suddenly livid at the comment, and stood in his place.  
“Fine! Why don't you just go back to Long Beach Island then?”  
“Fine.” Harry turned back around and walked out of the entrance. Louis chest was constricting and he felt like he was suffocating; it was like someone stabbed him in the chest repeatedly with a carving knife. He ran back to the stand and climbed up. For some reason his nose had decided to become stuffy and the wind from running must’ve made his eyes dry as a few tears came out.  
“Trouble in paradise?” Josh asked light-heartedly. Louis knew it was a joke, but it still pissed him off.  
“Why the fuck were you watching?”  
“Woah. Don’t get all snappy, I was just joking – ”  
“Louis!” He looked down to see Lottie standing there wrapped up in a towel. Fuck. This was exactly what he didn’t need right now.  
“What?” Louis retorted.  
“Why was Harry here?” He mentally hit himself for not preparing anything; Louis was so done with this day.  
“Umm, his Dad was in town. Visiting. So he dropped by to say hi.”  
“Oh…” She said doubtfully.  
“His Dad comes into town a lot then?” Josh apparently decided to join the conversation. Louis was a bit dazed by the new member.  
“What?”  
“Harry visits like every other week so – ”  
Shit. Louis needed him to shut up right now.  
“Josh!”  
“What?”  
“Wait, Harry’s here every other week?” Lottie’s voice floated upwards.  
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!  
“Yeah.” Josh answered before Louis could get anything in. Louis looked down worriedly to see Lottie extraordinarily baffled at the new information.  
“Louis…” Lottie was waiting for Louis to say something. He tried to make words come out, but apparently his voice box was on vacation. “You always say you sleep over Josh’s – ”  
“He’s never been to my house once.”  
Nope.  
This wasn’t going to happen right now. Louis tried closing his eyes; maybe this was just a really, really, horrible dream. Maybe his brain was putting on a mock trial for what he would do if this situation ever occurred in reality.  
He opened his eyes to see both Josh and Lottie looking at him with questioning eyes.  
Fuck.  
His heart was beating like a racehorse in the Kentucky Derby.  
“Okay. I can explain. I can explain…” Louis paused. He couldn’t explain. There was no way he could make up a lie extravagant enough with as much minute attention to detail to possibly explain this.  
“Great explanation.” Josh simply said.  
“Lottie, walk home with me tonight and I can explain then. Okay? We’re closing the pool in twenty minutes.”  
“Jessica’s mom was gonna drive me home…”  
“Lottie, please?”  
“Okay…” She hesitantly agreed.  
“Thank you. I’ll meet you in twenty-five minutes, okay?” She nodded and reluctantly walked back to her friends. Louis let out the deep breath he didn’t know he was holding.  
“Do I get an explanation?” Louis sighed and looked Josh straight in the eye.  
“What the fuck do you want me to say?” Josh shrugged and looked back at the pool. Louis tucked his legs into his chest and held onto them; it was kind of like coddling himself to make him feel a bit better. They sat there in silence for a few minutes; the splashes and laughter from the pool were mocking Louis. It was like whole groups of people were telling him ‘we’re happy and you’re not ha ha ha’. He never hated the pool until that moment. Louis felt like digging his own grave and just laying in it until he died. He didn’t want to face people anymore.  
“Y’know,” Josh finally said, “I always knew something was up. Between you and Harry…like if you guys are dating – ” Louis was worn out by the recent turns of the day and wasn’t in the mode to have this conversation.  
“We’re not dating.”  
“Well, whatever it is, I won’t tell anyone.” Louis rested his head on his knees and looked over at Josh to see if he was being genuine or not. He knew there was no more use in telling Josh the ‘he’s my best friend’ speech; Josh definitely realized what Louis and Harry had.  
“You’re serious?” Louis whispered.  
“Yeah. I mean, it’s kinda weird. I didn’t really know what to think at first because I’ve never actually seen a guy with another guy before…but you’re a cool dude and he seems pretty down to Earth, so why not? And I know other people aren’t…well they don’t like it. So I get why you don’t want anyone to know.” Louis was in disbelief right now. The good type. The type that didn’t want to make him dig and lay in his own grave.  
“Thanks, man.” He whispered.  
“Mhmm.” Josh nudged him, “I hope he’s good at sucking cock.”  
Louis groaned because this was now his life. 

 

“Why’d you say you go to Josh’s?”  
“Because Mom and Dad wouldn’t let me go over to Harry’s if they knew he came back.”  
“Why not?”  
“Because they don’t like him or my relationship with him.”  
“That’s only because they think he likes you. But you said that he didn’t.”  
“Yeah, well…” he tried to say it. He tried so hard to get the words out, but they just couldn’t leave his mouth. He ended up trying to kick a pebble on the sidewalk instead, but as he was walking, his foot skimmed past it.  
“Why can’t you just tell them?”  
“I’ve tried before, but they don’t believe me.”  
“I believe you.” 'Because you’re gullible', Louis remembers thinking.  
“Lottie, it’s…it’s complicated.”  
“I don’t get how it could be that complicated. You’re just friends.” Louis put his arm around Lottie’s shoulder.  
“Yeah, just friends…listen, can you not tell Mom and Dad about this?”  
“Why?”  
“For the exact reasons I just told you.”  
“This seems like a dumb thing to try and hide.”  
“Lottie, whenever you ask me for a favor or to cover for you, I’ll do it with no questions asked. Please?”  
“Okay, okay.”  
“Thank you.” Louis leaned down and kissed her on the head.  
Alright.  
So this wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.  
Now he just needed to talk to Harry.  
That was probably going to be the most difficult thing to do.

 

Louis waited until his family was asleep. He considered stealing his Dad’s keys and driving over to Harry’s house, but there were too many ‘ifs’ to that scenario so he ruled it out. Instead, he went to the basement, sat on the couch, and tried to figure out what he was going to say to Harry. That just made him more nervous, though, so he picked up the phone and dialed Harry’s house.  
Ding……Ding……Ding……  
Why didn’t he pick up yet?  
Ding……Ding……Ding……‘Hello. The number you have dialed is not available. Please leave your name and number after the beep and we will return your call. Thank you.’  
Fuck.  
BEEP.  
“Harry…” Louis paused, “Harry, if you’re there, pick up please……” He waited for a few seconds, “Harry?” There was still nothing. Louis exasperatedly sighed into the phone. “C’mon, I’m just gonna call again…” No one picked up. “Fine.” Louis hung up the phone and proceeded to pick it up and call once again.  
Ding……Ding……Ding…… Ding……Ding……Ding……‘Hello.’  
Fuck! Why couldn’t he just pick up the damn phone?  
‘The number you have dialed is not available. Please leave your name and number after the beep and we will return your call. Thank you.’ BEEP.  
“Harry, c’mon. I need to talk to you. I’m really sorry…I’m pretty sure I overreacted and I feel like shit and I know you must feel like shit – can you just pick up the phone? Please?” Louis paused. Harry had to pick up now. There was no way he wasn’t going to pick up. He waited about thirty seconds in silence. Harry still didn’t pick up. “Oh, c’mon, Harry. Please pick up…please?” The answering machine cut Louis off and hung up for him. Louis put the phone down and lay on his back, his hands covering his eyes as he groaned. Louis tried calling one more time five minutes later, but to no avail. Harry still didn’t answer.  
He thought he was going to be in the most shit with Lottie.  
Nope.  
He really fucked over his relationship with Harry. All Harry wanted to do was surprise Louis by coming a day earlier and Louis treated him like he committed the biggest crime of the century.  
It turned out there was another thing he couldn’t do right: sustain his relationship with Harry.

 

The next day, Harry wasn’t at the pool at 5:00. So Louis sat waiting to see his curly-haired, dimpled best friend walk through the entrance in his swim trunks.  
Then it was 6:00, and Louis got skittish.  
Then 7:00, and Louis was concerned.  
Then 8:00, and Louis was distressed.  
Then it was 8:30 and swimming hours were over.  
Harry still wasn’t there, and Louis felt abandoned.  
So much for their plan.  
He stood in the parking lot for a good twenty minutes, hoping that Harry’s car would pull up and they could go to his house.  
That never happened.  
Louis walked home and waited once again until his family was asleep. Then he ventured into the basement and called Harry’s house.  
Ding……Ding……Ding…… Ding……Ding……Ding……  
‘Hello. The number you have dialed is not available. Please leave your name and number after the beep and we will return your call. Thank you.’ BEEP.  
“Harry, what the hell? Where are you? Why didn’t you come get me tonight? Could you just pick up the fucking phone for fucking once? I know I was an asshole, okay? I know that. I was an ignorant, stupid, selfish asshole. But could you just pick up the damn phone so that I know you’re okay because when you don’t pick up the phone and don’t show up when you’re supposed to, I don’t know if you’re okay or if you’ve been hurt or anything. You’re okay…aren’t you? Fuck, Harry, just pick up the phone. You’re being stubborn and I guess I deserve that but I need to explain things. Please pick up……please……please…Harry? I know I hurt you and it seems like there was no good reason but I was freaking out and I’m sort of freaking out now and – ” The answering machine cut Louis off and hung up for him once again. He called two more times, and there was still nothing.  
Louis rolled around in his bed that night, unable to fall sleep. He was genuinely concerned if Harry was okay or not. Louis remembers thinking ‘Maybe he got hurt? Maybe he was in a car accident? Maybe he had a heart attack…wait. He couldn’t have a heart attack. He’s far too healthy for that…maybe he –  
Wait.  
Maybe he was actually so offended that he took me seriously.  
Maybe he went back to Long Beach Island.  
Idiot.  
He and I are both idiots.’  
Louis eventually fell asleep and dreamed about kissing Harry.

 

His parents and Lottie asked Louis to come to lunch with them that Sunday. Louis said no because he was feeling nauseous…which he was, but because he needed to know if Harry was in Long Beach Island or not. So while they were out, Louis called Harry’s Mom’s house; after the first ding, someone picked up.  
“Hello?” It was Harry. That was his voice: his sweet, deep, sultry, innocent, and pure voice. Louis was relieved and simultaneously felt his stomach tie into some intricate boat knots.  
“Harry.” Louis stated the name like it was the answer to all of his questions.  
“Lou…?”  
“Shit, Harry. I was so fucking worried about you; you have no idea. I called your house six times. I think I left four voice mails, I don’t even know. That voice that answers your phone irritates me so much. Thank God that you’re okay – you are okay, aren’t you?”  
“Ummm, yeah.” Louis finally breathed normally for the first time in two days.  
“You actually drove back Friday night?”  
“You, ummm…didn’t want me there…” Harry answered silently. The response shattered Louis’ heart like a glass plate being thrown onto the ground.  
“Haz, I was being a stupid, ignorant, self-absorbed prick to you. I didn’t mean anything that I said.”  
“Well, ummm…it seemed like you did.”  
“In the moment I did because I was being an asshole. I don’t actually mean it, though. I never wanted you to leave.”  
“You didn’t stop me, though; you told me to go.” Harry sounded like a kid who had just found out that all those times their pet went up ‘upstate to a nice family with a big farm’ actually meant that their pet died.  
“I’m so, so, so sorry.” Louis heard Harry sigh unto the phone.  
“I was just trying to cheer you up and come early. It was supposed to be a surprise. Like…a good surprise.”  
“I know.”  
“I, ummm, did it for you…and you didn’t want me there. So I left.”  
“I know: I’m a dickhead.”  
“Lou, it’s just…I feel like sometimes you, ummm, don’t understand the things I do for you…”  
“Hazza, you mean the World to me. Really: the entire World. I know that sometimes I may not convey it very well, but that’s just because I’m still trying to figure some things out and, God, I’m so sorry…I miss you so much.” Louis stayed silent after that, and Harry was also quiet, undoubtedly thinking on the other side. Louis heard crying in the background.  
“My Mom’s taking a nap and Robin’s out doing an open house so I’m in charge of Gemma and she just started crying. M’sorry, I gotta go.”  
“Oh…okay. Yeah, ummm…okay.”  
“Sorry.”  
“No, no. I’m sorry.”  
“Okay…ummm, bye.”  
“Wait – Haz?”  
“Yeah?”  
“I really need to explain this to you.”  
“M’sorry, Gemma’s crying – ”  
“You’re still coming back home the 23rd for good, right?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Okay. So I’ll see you in thirteen days. You’ll come to the pool again? We can talk then?”  
“Ummm…I guess so.”  
“Okay…send everyone my love…especially you.”  
“Oh…yeah. Ummm, m’kay.” Maybe Harry hadn’t just caught what Louis had said? Or maybe he wasn’t acknowledging it? Either way, the response felt like a punch in the gut.  
“Alright.”  
“Ummm…bye.”  
“Bye.”  
The worst part of the conversation was that Louis knew Harry still felt like shit. And that made him feel like shit for making Harry feel like shit. Louis didn’t know how to make Harry believe him; Harry always needed an action along with the words and Louis was currently incapable of being able to physically hold him.  
So Louis would wait a long, grueling, thirteen days to make it up to Harry.  
He probably deserved this for being such an asshole to him: suffer thirteen more days in guilt. That almost made Louis want to go to confession…but he would have a lot to confess so he decided against it.

 

The thirteen days kind of blurred together in Louis’ mind because they didn’t matter. Nothing really mattered until he saw Harry again. Louis does remember that his relationship with his parents got a tad bit better. He and his Mom held a few conversations, and his Dad used a few more words in his sentences. Usually though, their words would go in one ear and come right back out of the other; he realized they were partly responsible for the mess he was in, and decided to not let them get under his skin anymore. Louis also remembers ignoring the glowing pit at the bottom of his stomach that was caused because of this.

 

When he saw Harry walk in biting his lip with his eyes cast down, Louis didn’t even ask Josh to cover for a minute. He jumped off the stand, ran to Harry, secured his arms around Harry’s waist, and held him as tightly as possible, their bodies completely flushed against one another. Harry hesitantly wrapped his arms around Louis, and the first thing that came out of Louis mouth was, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Harry held him tighter then. Louis buried his head into Harry’s chest, right where his heart was, and whispered again, “I’m sorry.” Then he quickly pecked the skin there with his lips. Louis leaned his head back to see Harry’s face, and he was looking down at him with a droopy smile and melancholy eyes. “We’ll talk tonight…yeah?” Harry nodded. Louis missed Harry’s eyes: the hope that usually poured out of them seemed to be lost.  
This was the first time that something in Harry was missing.

 

That night, they sat on Harry’s bed, feet tangling together, and ate Chinese food out of containers. Harry had been quiet the entire evening, never saying a sentence with meaning in it; it was driving Louis insane so he started the conversation.  
“Haz, I really am sorry.” Harry looked down at his food, avoiding eye contact.  
“I know.”  
“I don’t think you realize how sorry I am, though. Like, seriously; listen to the voice messages I left you. I was freaking out and was an ass to you.”  
“It’s okay, Lou.”  
“No, it’s not; if it was, then you would actually look at me.” Harry dragged his head upwards and looked Louis in the eye.  
“S’okay.” He told Louis with his mouth full.  
“Harry.” Louis leaned over the bed and put his food onto the ground. When he looked back at the bed, Harry was in the process of slurping up lo-mien noodles, clearly struggling with the chopsticks. He wasn’t looking at Louis anymore. “Could you please say more than three words in a sentence?”  
“My sentences aren’t three words long.”  
“That one wasn’t.”  
“Look, now yours are.”  
“Please, be more frustrating.” Harry huffed out and rolled his eyes. “What?”  
“Just a bit ironic that you’re calling me the frustrating one.”  
“See! That! Can you please yell at me or something!” Harry looked at Louis cynically. “Yell!”  
“M’not gonna yell.”  
“Then tell me I’m an asshole!”  
“We both know you’re not an asshole…” Harry said while putting his food onto the bedside table. Louis was in disbelief.  
“I don’t get it.”  
“What?”  
“I don’t get how I can freak out and be a dick to you, tell you to go back to Long Beach Island at eight in the night, you just do it, and you still won’t call me an asshole.” Louis sat pretzel legged facing Harry while Harry leaned back on the headboard, turning his head to look at Louis.  
“You can do asshole things sometimes…but you aren’t actually an asshole.”  
“Okay…fine.” They sat in silence for a few seconds, the tension hanging over both of their bodies.  
“Ummm…d’you wanna watch a movie or something?” Louis sighed and hung his head down.  
“No…Harry, I know you’re upset. I was an absolute dick to you when you were trying to do something nice. I’m really sorry.”  
“I know…I forgave you.”  
“Yeah, but you still have that look…like you’re really sad and I can’t stand it.”  
“M’not…I just…I dunno.”  
“You’re just what? Please, say it.” Harry took a deep breath.  
“I know we agreed to keep this a secret and all, but, ummm…I just…I hate being your secret.” Louis put his hands on Harry’s legs and started massaging the skin there.  
“You’re not my secret – ” Harry shook his head.  
“Yes, I am. If I wasn’t, why are we sneaking around? Why can’t Lottie see me?”  
“It’s not – Harry…” Louis looked at Harry’s face; he had on a pout and pleading eyes. Louis could never lie to him, “okay. Yes: you’re kinda my secret. But the only reason it’s this way is because I wanna protect you.”  
“I know, I know, we’ve been through this before.”  
“If my parents ever found out, I’d never be able to see you again.”  
“Lou…that’s you trying to protect yourself.”  
“It’s…” Louis huffed out a breath. Harry could always see the double-meaning in Louis’ words, “fine: that’s part of it. But we don’t have another choice. There’s nothing more we can do…what do you want me to say? What else do you want me to do?”  
“I just…I get it on your part. I, ummm, I don’t think you get it on mine, though.”  
“Then explain it to me.” Harry sighed.  
“Sometimes, it, ummm, it feels like I can’t be myself. Like, when we’re out. I can’t hold your hand like I want to, I can’t hug you for too long, I can’t kiss you; you’re such a huge part of my life that not being able to do those things…it just, ummm, it feels like I can’t be…me.”  
“Haz…” Louis moved himself so he was straddling himself on Harry’s legs. He put both of his hands on Harry’s face and stroked his thumbs over Harry’s cheeks. He looked miserable. Louis never took the time before to think about how this whole arrangement was affecting Harry. It was in this moment that he first started to understand. “I wish things were different too…really. I do. I’d change them in a heartbeat if I could…” Harry put his hands on top of Louis’.  
“Can you – ummm, will you tell me the truth?”  
“You’d see through my lies anyway so I have no other option.” Harry gloomily chuckled and tilted his head to the left, so it was resting on Louis’ right hand.  
“M’kay…ummm, are you, ummm, embarrassed?”  
“Embarrassed?”  
“Yeah. Of…ummm, me?” Louis was surprised by the question: did Harry actually believe that Louis was embarrassed of him? Harry’s eyes were searching for the answer.  
“Haz…” Louis did the only thing he could think of and leaned in to tenderly kiss Harry. Their lips locked together for the first time in twenty-eight days, and Louis didn’t want to stop. Harry pushed in closer to the kiss and moved his hands down to Louis’ waist. His lips were a bit cracked and dry, but their softness came back after Louis ran his tongue over them: it was like memory. Both of their lips memorized each other and came back to life with a kiss. Louis tipped Harry’s head back a bit to lick into Harry’s mouth. The feel of his tongue on Harry’s after so long made Louis feel like he was floating. There was no place in the World Louis would’ve rather been than in Harry’s arms.  
They didn’t say anything else to each other that night; instead, they made up for the lost time. Granted, he didn’t answer the question, but that was because he didn’t know how to.  
He thought Harry would forget about it, but it turned out that this conversation would bite Louis in the ass a few months later.

 

Senior year started the first week of September. Things between Harry and Louis started to go back to normal, but Louis couldn’t shake the feeling that there was an ever-present tension between the two of them. Sometimes, Louis would randomly go up to Harry in the hallway and do something to let him know he cared about him; he’d give Harry a back massage, rustle his hair, pinch his cheeks, or throw his arm around Harry’s shoulders. It was a bit strange that Lottie was a freshman, and Louis would constantly see her in the hallway and try to embarrass her: that’s what brothers are for, after all.  
Harry’s au’pair came back after the summer, so they no longer had the entire house to themselves every Friday night. They went back to their old ways of being sneaky, quiet, and locking the bedroom door. Harry’s lips became Louis’ favorite thing, and Louis would catch himself staring at them in school. Tackling Harry’s lips with his own was also one of Louis’ most common extra-curricular activities, although he didn’t think that would look too good on his college transcript.  
After a few meetings with his college consoler and a lot of encouragement from Harry, Louis decided that he wanted to go to school to become an architect. It just sort of made sense; he could have his own artistic freedom, there would be a tangible result, he would always have a career, and Louis could see himself doing it. He could design a different variety of buildings, and maybe even one day create a company of his own. On the other hand, Harry decided that he definitely wanted to go to medical school and become a doctor. 

 

“We should apply to the same University.” Harry suggested. It was a Friday night, and they were laying on Harry’s bed, both naked and wrapped up in each other. They had both come down from their orgasms at this point; Harry blew Louis first and then vice versa. That was typically how things went. Louis was lightly using his finger to draw nonsense patterns onto Harry’s chest. Harry kissed Louis’ forehead and Louis gazed up at him. The twinkle in Harry’s eyes hadn’t vanished yet.  
“Where were you thinking about?”  
“Mmmm…I wanna go to University of Pennsylvania.”  
“Haz, I’m never gonna be able to get into an Ivy.”  
“C’mon…please? Just try?” This was something that Louis had recently started to think more and more about: the future. With his 3.64 GPA and lack of extra curricular activities besides soccer, it was highly unlikely he’d get accepted into an Ivy League school; he talked to his college consoler about it multiple times. The thoughts that usually ran through his head were ‘what are Harry and I going to do? Do I want to go to the same school as him?’ Louis sighed into Harry’s chest.  
“Do they even have a school for architecture?”  
“Ummm, I dunno…”  
“Haz, you need to follow your dreams. If Penn is the right place for you…then go to Penn.”  
“So…it’s not the right place for you?”  
“Well…no. I don’t think so.” Harry had a pout on his face. “That shouldn’t stop you, though.”  
“What’s gonna happen, though…like, if we don’t go to the same school?”  
“I dunno.” Louis kissed Harry’s chest. He hated all this uncertainty and Harry was the only thing that felt secure anymore. Whenever Louis needed to be grounded, he could run into Harry’s arms and everything would be okay…if only for a minute.  
“I dunno what…ummm, what m’gonna do without you.” Louis kissed his chest once again, this time lingering; he loved how smooth Harry’s chest always was. By this point, Louis had basically mapped out Harry’s entire body with his tongue; however, there would always be another small freckle to discover.  
“Lets not think about this right now, yeah?” Louis pecked Harry’s lips, and Harry smiled.  
“M’kay.” 

 

It was a Tuesday night in early October that Lottie told him some gut-wrenching news. She came into his room while he was doing homework at his desk. Louis heard the door creak open.  
“There’s this thing called knocking.” He told her impassively; he was in the middle of reading about the Renaissance and it bored him out of his mind. Louis didn’t mind the distraction; it was actually kind of relieving to get a break from the dense textbook…or, so he thought.  
“Sorry.” Lottie shut the door and plopped herself onto Louis’ bed. Louis swung his chair around so he was facing her.  
“Yes?”  
“So, umm, question.”  
“Answer.”  
“You know Jessica?”  
“Ehm…possibly?”  
“She has long brown hair, plays field hockey…” It wasn’t ringing any bells in Louis’ head, “…she was over last Saturday.”  
“Oh.” He still couldn’t put a face to the name but pretended he did to progress the conversation. “Okay: Jessica. What about her?”  
“So…she has a crush – ”  
“Oh God, it’s not on me, is it?”  
“Shut up.”  
“Is it the guy you like?” Lottie started blushing.  
“No.”  
“You like a guy?” Louis exclaimed.  
“Lou, shut up!”  
“Who is he? What’s his name?”  
“I’m not gonna tell you.” Lottie was becoming flustered, and she lay down on the bed.  
“But I need to know so I can beat him up if he touches you.”  
“Oh please, you don’t have the balls to punch anyone.” That minorly offended him.  
“Screw you, yes I do.”  
“Uh-huh.”  
“Just tell me who it is.” Lottie groaned. “Lots,” He feigned seriousness for a few seconds, “do we need to have…The Talk?”  
“No, Louis!” Lottie yelled.  
“Calm down, calm down.”  
“This isn’t why I’m here.” Lottie sat back up.  
“Yeah, but it’s more interesting than a girl named Jessica who I don’t care about.”  
“She has a crush on Harry.” Well. That was something he cared about. Louis’ stomach felt like it was kicked by a five year old who just started karate classes.  
“Oh. Okay…” He said unsurely.  
“Yeah, and like…so she caught him after school today, I guess while he was waiting for your soccer practice to be over or something, and they talked.” Harry didn’t mention that on the ride home.  
“Alright…”  
“And they talked for a while – ” Louis felt his brows furrow and his heart started repeatedly knocking on his chest, saying ‘Hello! I’m here! Now can we talk about this?’ Louis refused to awknowledge his heart, “and she asked him if he would ever wanna hang out –”  
“Wait, what?” Louis wanted to punch that Jessica girl. Well, not punch; she was a freshman girl. Why would he want to punch her? But he definitely could punch her. Maybe he’d have to so he could prove to Lottie that he did have balls. Wait – was he jealous of a freshman girl that talked to Harry once? He, Louis Tomlinson, was jealous? Well…no. He was just upset that Harry didn’t mention it…but there was no reason to really be upset about this. His heart started knocking on his chest again and he told it to go away.  
“Yeah, and he said ‘sorry, you seem like a nice girl, but I’m dating someone’ – ” Louis’ heart sunk to his stomach.  
Nope.  
There was no way in Hell that this happened.  
Dating?  
Harry…dating.  
Harry said he was dating someone.  
Was Harry dating someone?  
“ – and she just called and told me about this and wanted me to ask you who he was dating because we all thought he was single and…Louis?” Louis’ attention snapped back to Lottie; he just stared at nothing for the solid ten seconds that Lottie talked for.  
“Yeah, yeah, ummm” Louis was dumbfounded, “yeah. Sorry, I don’t think he’s actually dating anyone – ”  
“You don’t think?”  
“Well…yeah. I think he just said it to let her down easy.”  
Louis had no clue if what he just said was a lie or not.  
“Oh…okay. Yeah, we were just curious – ”  
“Sorry, Lots; as great as conversation would be, I really need to finish this mound of homework. Can we continue this later?” And by ‘continue this later’ he meant never talk about it again.  
“Oh…yeah. Okay.” Louis turned around in his chair to face his desk, “I’ll just call her now and tell her because we were confused. Thanks.” Lottie’s voice drifted out of the room and Louis heard the door shut.  
He really couldn’t give two flying shits about the Renaissance at this moment.  
Harry said he was dating someone.  
Was Harry dating someone?  
Was there a part of his life he was keeping a total secret from Louis?  
Did he…did he think he and Louis were dating?  
Shit.  
Were he and Harry dating?  
They shouldn’t be: they never talked about it.  
It was always just Harry and Louis. Louis and Harry. The two best friends.  
They couldn’t be dating.

 

Louis had a rough time getting to sleep that night. His mind was spinning with too many questions and not enough answers. Right when things were starting to get better, they turned into…well they turned into this. The hole Louis dug himself into was getting deeper and deeper; no one was throwing him a ladder.

 

When he got into Harry’s car the next morning, one of his various Radiohead tapes was playing. Harry still loved Oasis, but Radiohead was ‘so different and amazing, they’re unlike anyone else out there’. Louis made a mental note in his mind to get Harry to listen to some classic rock. ‘Let Down’ was currently playing.  
“G’morning.” Harry said in his optimistic voice as he started driving.  
“Hello.” Louis started twiddling his thumbs; he didn’t know how to bring the conversation up…he didn’t know if he wanted to have the conversation.  
“How’d you sleep?”  
“Okay…you?”  
“Fine. M’kinda nervous…sending in my application to Penn this week.” Louis stomach started churning.  
“That’s this week?”  
“Early application is, yeah.”  
“Wow…that’s…” too fast. Everything was happening too fast and Louis didn’t’ know how to catch up. Louis was applying to five colleges, none of them near Penn. The only thing going through his mind was ‘when did everything start getting so…real?’ “Wow.”  
“Yeah…” As if Harry sensed Louis’ inner chaos, he asked, “hand?” He put his hand on the armrest and Louis grabbed onto it like a floatation device in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Just having Harry to still grab onto reassured Louis that he wouldn’t drown in the freezing salt water for the moment. “What’s up?”  
“Ehm,” Louis cleared his throat, trying to push aside the thought of their now seemingly inevitable separation in less than a year. He reminded himself about the ‘dating’ dilemma again, and that became his first priority. “Lottie and I talked last night…and, um, do you know a girl named Jessica?”  
“A Jessica came up to me in the library after school yesterday.” Louis didn’t want to blatantly ask ‘who are you dating?’ so he ran around the bush for a while.  
“What’d you…like, do?”  
“I was waiting for you to finish practice so I was just doing homework.”  
“No, I mean when she came up to you.”  
“Oh. Ummm,” Louis could tell that Harry was trying to remember the conversation. Good. Jessica better not be that memorable, “we just talked for a while. She seemed nice…” Louis’ stomach was burning, “is she Lottie’s friend?”  
“Yeah. Apparently she has a crush on you.” Harry chuckled.  
“Really?” Louis rolled his eyes.  
“Don’t make me repeat it.”  
“Why?” Harry squeezed Louis’ hand and smirked at him. “I feel like you have something to say about this.”  
“Well…umm,” Louis didn’t know how to say what he wanted to.  
“Are you jealous of a freshman girl for flirting with me?”  
“What? No.”  
“You definitely are.” Harry started laughing.  
“Shut up: I’m not jealous. One stupid little girl has a crush on you, and you get a big head: how are you gonna feel when someone you like actually likes you?” Harry squeezed Louis’ hand.  
“You tell me.” Louis’ stomach fell in on itself. Oh no. This was it: this was going to be the conversation. Louis knew Harry meant it in a playful way, but he started having an internal panic attack and took it seriously. He wasn’t sure how to get the words out.  
“I – I dunno…” Harry’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” That was clearly not the right thing to ask, but it was the only thing that came out of Louis’ mouth so he just went with it.  
“Louis: are you serious right now?”  
“Ummm…yes?” Shit. That wasn’t supposed to come out either.  
“M’sorry. I must’ve missed something: I like you and you like me, right?”  
“Ummm, well, I mean – ”  
“That was a rhetorical question.” Harry was glaring out the front window at this point and Louis stayed silent. “What’s going on?” He whispered. Louis sighed.  
“You told Jessica you were dating someone.” He turned to Harry to see his reaction: he was stone-faced.  
“So?” Harry flatly asked.  
“Haz…we’re not, ummm…we’re not…you know…” Louis couldn’t get the word out.  
“Dating?” He could hear Harry’s breathing; his nostrils were flaring.  
“Yeah.” Harry shook his head and cackled.  
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He waited a few seconds before squeezing Louis’ hand, “What do you call this, then? Being friendly?” His voice cracked.  
“Haz – ”  
“Stop ‘Hazzing’ me and tell me the truth.” Harry snatched his hand out of Louis’ grip and put it on the steering wheel: Louis was about to drown. “What do you want me to refer to this as? Because in my book, it’s sure as Hell not ‘just friends’ but I guess you must think otherwise.”  
“You can’t…you can’t say that you’re dating someone because then people will think and people…people can’t know.”  
Louis had failed to tell Harry that Josh knew. He wasn’t sure why he could never let Harry know until eight months later.  
“Okay, but can’t we say that ‘we’re dating’ to each other?” Louis' internal organs all fell in on themselves now, even his brain melted to mush.  
“Guys don’t…guys don’t date…” Each word was more grueling to say than the last, as Louis’ throat had also caved in on itself, “other…guys.” Harry huffed out.  
“Are you fucking serious?” Harry asked incredulously, a smile of pure disbelief on his face, “After all this time you’re still stuck on that?” Louis let his head roll back onto the headrest.  
“I just…we’re not…we’re us. We’re best friends. We’ve always been best friends.”  
“Friends don’t suck each other’s dicks, Louis.” That comment stung, but Louis tried to not let it get under his skin.  
Little did he realize, Harry made a home for himself deep inside of Louis a very long time ago.  
“I told you…I’m still trying to figure things out.”  
“How many more times do I need to blow you before you realize that you’re gay?” Louis’ eyes were blown open.  
“Excuse me?” He couldn’t believe this was coming out of Harry’s mouth. “I’m not – ”  
“Can we not play this game today?”  
“What game?”  
“The one where you consistently lie to yourself!”  
“Lie to myself?”  
“I’m so sick of this! You’re fine with doing anything, but as soon as I try to put words to it, you act like it never happened! As soon as anyone questions something, you have the audacity to lie through your teeth like it doesn’t even matter! Like nothing I do ever matters!” Harry’s eyes were glassy, a new coat of tears forming on them. It unnerved Louis how beautiful he thought Harry looked at that moment: a flannel shirt on, the sun casting its light onto his face, his pale skin glowing, his tasseled chocolate curls, and his green eyes reflecting the blue of the sky on their new tear-glassed window. “You set the boundaries, you initiate half of the things we do, you kiss me, you say I’m your favorite person, but as soon as time comes to show it, you back away like nothing ever happened! Like I never happened! Like I’m just another friend and I’m so sick of it!” Louis’ breathing was constricting.  
“I don’t do that – ”  
“Yes you do!” Harry’s voice was much weaker than it was a second ago, “I need more than two hands to count the amount of times you’ve done it! I have to start using my toes to count!” Harry started sniffling as a few tears rolled down his cheeks. “You say I mean the World to you; would it kill you every once in a while to show it?” He begged Louis, “I know you can’t show it to other people: but what about me? Can you seriously not call me your boyfriend? Because I’m pretty sure that I fit the mold of one.”  
He was right. Everything Harry had just said was right.  
Louis refused to believe it, though.  
“Harry…things are fine the way they are. We don’t need to change them – ”  
“No, they’re not, Lou!” Harry used his right hand to wipe the tears from his face, his eyes still focused on the road. “Maybe they are for you, but they’re not for me; they haven’t been for a while, but I’ve let it go because I can’t stand the thought of losing you.” His voice was a mere whisper at this point. “I want you for as long as possible, but I don’t think you want that.” It was in that moment Louis felt a tear roll down his own cheek: when did he start crying? His throat felt like it could breathe fire like a dragon. Everything inside of his body was burning up; it was like the sack of Troy. Louis was utterly defeated. He thought Harry broke him down, but he would realize years later that he broke his own self down.  
“I…I’m giving you everything I can.” Louis whispered.  
They sat in silence for the rest of the car ride.

 

They walked with each other through the hallways at school, but neither said a word to the other the entire day. Louis played the shittiest soccer match he ever had in his life that evening; it didn’t help when he saw Harry watching the game from the bleachers with his eyes cast down to the ground. Sometimes he would clap, but most of the time he just watched. Louis caught his eye three times; the last time, he was paying more attention to Harry’s aura of ‘gloom and doom’ than the game, and ran face first into a player from the opposing team. The player accidentally stepped on Louis’ left foot and Louis lost his balance, twisting his right ankle and falling onto the ground. He couldn’t walk after that, so he was pulled out of the game.  
Of course Harry was there when the trainer wrapped up his ankle and told Louis to not walk on his right foot for the night. Louis stood on his left foot, his right one hanging in the air, and tried to pick up his bag. Harry took it right out of his hand without any warning, threw it over his shoulder, and tucked his arm around Louis’ waist. Louis put his arm around Harry’s shoulders, and said “thank you” as he hopped and Harry slowly walked to the parking lot.  
Harry’s car was the only one left in the lot by the time they got there. Harry opened the trunk, threw Louis’ bag in it, and then walked Louis over to the passenger’s seat. Right as Harry was about to open the door for him, Louis put his hand on Harry’s arm.  
“Wait.” Harry sighed and looked down at Louis with tired eyes. “I know that I can’t give you everything that you want…everything you deserve…” He moved his hand from Harry’s shoulder to his cheek, “but I’m giving you everything that I physically can right now. I know it’s not a lot…it’s not nearly enough…but I am trying. It’s hard; everything surrounding me tells me I need to stop.” Louis paused, started stroking Harry’s soft cheek, and smiled at him. His voice became softer: “Then I see you; and everything in me says ‘go’.” Harry leaned into the touch. “I’m gonna keep trying until I get it right…until I’m everything you want and need me to be…until I can really give you everything you deserve…okay?”  
Harry looked at Louis for a few seconds with his eyebrows creased, as if he was thinking this all through. Louis frantically searched Harry’s eyes for an answer: the spark in them was still present. Harry smiled closed-mouthed at Louis, pulled him in closer, nodded, and kissed him. When they pulled apart, he simply said,  
“Deal.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello wonderful readers!! :)  
> Thank you again for all your fantastic feedback!!! It really means a lot to me and I love hearing what you all think!!!  
> So...there are a lot of comments I could make about this update. But it can all be summed up in one word: sorry.
> 
> Next update should be up in a few days!!

It seemed like after that argument, things altered again in their relationship; it was both a blessing and a curse. Louis began to change his outlook on the things he did with Harry. Rather than believing they did things ‘just for fun’, Louis realized he did everything because he physically needed to. Whereas before it all felt like a craving he had to satisfy, it now became an essential way of how he lived his life. It was like breathing; he had to breathe just as he had to let Harry know how much he cared about him. It started with small things, like the awful jokes Harry would tell. Louis found himself laughing at them like always, but not because they were so horrible. He laughed because it was Harry encompassed in a nutshell: lame, adorable, modest, heart-warming, full of effort, and absolutely endearing. Then it progressed into all the times he kissed Harry. Louis no longer kissed Harry just because he wanted to; Louis kissed Harry to show him how much he cared about him…how much he needed him. The kisses always started out slow and tender, and Louis began to put everything he could into them. Sometimes it was a form of communication; when they were talking, Louis would randomly lean over and kiss Harry, not caring whether it was on his hand, cheek, or lips, to let Harry know he always cared. The smile Harry had on afterwards was worth every single penny Louis could ever obtain in his life.  
However, this newly registered dependency continually troubled Louis at night. He couldn’t help but feel like there was something missing. The feeling that there was an infinite amount of time left for them was replaced by the presence of a countdown; Louis wasn’t sure when it was counting down to, but he knew that time was no longer something to be taken for granted. He knew Harry was no longer something to be taken for granted. Louis kept trying to give Harry more and more, and it was working…until a certain point. There was a blockade in Louis that refused to completely give himself over because of the two words that had plagued him since the first time that they’d kissed: what if?  
So yes, it was a double-edged sword. But Harry seemed happier for the time being, so Louis was okay just dealing with it…for the time being.

 

They found out on December 17th that Harry was accepted into the University of Pennsylvania. It was official: Harry would spend at least the next four years of his life in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Harry was ecstatic. Louis tried to mirror his emotions, but he couldn’t shake his internal unrest that was caused by the news. 

 

Harry’s Dad and his girlfriend flew in on December 20th. Louis finally got to become aquatinted with Mr. Styles when he spent the first Monday and Tuesday of Winter Break at Harry’s house.  
“Dad, we’re home!” Harry yelled when they walked into the house on Monday morning.  
“Who’s home?” Mr. Styles yelled back from the kitchen. It was clear where Harry inherited his deep voice.  
“Me and Louis!”  
“Are you a ghost? I can’t see you!” Harry looked at Louis and rolled his eyes. Louis couldn’t help but giggle at their relationship; it was so buddy-buddy.  
“C’mon.” Harry grabbed Louis’ wrist and they walked into the kitchen. Mr. Styles was sitting at the island table eating eggs and bacon with a woman who appeared to be the same age as him. “Hey Dad.” Harry let go of Louis’ wrist as they walked to the other side of the table.  
“Oh good: you aren’t ghosts.” Louis got a good look at Harry’s Dad for the first time in over a year. He was still the plump, jolly old man that Louis remembered, with a full head of grey hair, dark brown eyes, and the same long nose as Harry. Mr. Styles warmly smiled at Louis, put down his fork, and held out his right hand over the table. “Louis! Been a long time, hasn’t it? How’s life treating you?” His firm grip hadn’t changed a bit since last year, and Louis’ hand was crushed once again.  
“It’s good, Sir. How’ve you been?”  
“Well, I’m here spending the holidays with my son, his best friend, and this lovely woman, Rita.” She was a stout woman with short dark brown hair, blue eyes, and glasses. Rita smiled and waved to Louis. “Life couldn’t be better.”  
“Nice to meet you, Louis.” Her voice was light and sweet, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”  
“Me?” Louis looked at Harry and Harry blushed as his eyes fell to the ground. Harry hadn’t even mentioned Rita before, so why did she know who Louis was?  
“Louis, anybody who steps within a ten mile radius of this family has heard of you.” Mr. Styles said.  
“So the whole country of Norway knows me?” Harry’s Dad laughed heartily at the remark.  
“Your name is known throughout International waters.”  
“Okay, Dad. We’re gonna go up to my room now.” Harry pinched Louis’ waist and started walking out of the kitchen. Louis followed along.  
“Wait, don’t forget we’re having dinner tonight at that Italian place.”  
“M’kayyy.”  
‘We’re leaving at five forty-five!”  
“M’kayyyyy!” They were out of the kitchen by this point.  
“Be safe!” His Dad yelled at them. Louis wasn’t really sure what he meant by the comment, so he let it go and didn’t ask any questions.  
“New girlfriend?” Louis asked while they were walking up the stairs. Harry was basically running up them and Louis didn’t understand what the urgency was for.  
“Yeah, she works with him.”  
“Oh. Cool.” Harry tripped over his foot and started falling face first into the stairs; Louis quickly wrapped his arm around the front of Harry’s waist and caught him.  
“Whoops…thanks.”  
“You still haven’t figured out how to use your giant’s limbs, have you?” Harry rolled his eyes and continued to walk up the stairs; Louis still kept his arm around Harry. When they got into the room and Harry locked the door, Louis pulled him in closer.  
“International waters, huh?”  
“Sorry about that.” Harry muttered. Louis pulled him in, stood up on his toes, and sweetly kissed Harry for a second or two.  
“M’honored.” Louis mumbled into Harry’s lips. Harry pulled away and bit his bottom lip. It was clear that he was unsure about something. “What’s wrong?”  
“Ummm…I ummm, have a few things to tell you?”  
“Okay…”  
“You have to promise you won’t be mad, though.” Louis’ stomach twisted; that didn’t seem like the best way to start off a conversation.  
“Why would I be mad?”  
“Just…let’s sit?” Harry didn’t wait for Louis to respond before slumping over to the bed and sitting down on it, feet dangling off the side. Louis sat down next to him and put his right hand on Harry’s left thigh. Harry put his left hand over Louis’. “So, ummm…” Harry wasn’t looking at Louis; he was looking at his feet. Louis still remembers the look of fear and despair battling for dominance over Harry’s face. “D’you want me to start with the news that does or doesn’t directly relate to you?” This was the most solemn Harry had been since their argument and Louis didn’t have a good feeling about it; he laughed nervously and used his thumb to massage Harry’s thigh.  
“I guess, umm, doesn’t first.”  
“Alright…so, ummm, my Dad just talked to me about this, like, yesterday. He basically pointed out how this house has become mine for, ummm, the past two years. The only reason that he’s kept it is so I could finish school…but, ummm, since I’m going to Penn next year, we’re not really gonna need it.” Harry looked up at Louis with melancholy eyes. “He’s staying in Norway for the next two years, so he and Rita are gonna buy a house there. Robin was offered a job at one of the Coldwell Banker branches in Albany, so he, Mom, and Gemma are gonna move there this January…basically, when there’s a break, I’ll go to my Mom’s, and ummm…there’s not gonna be the need for this house anymore so…” Harry sighed.  
“You’re gonna sell the house.” Louis finished the sentence; Harry nodded. “Oh.” Louis realized in this moment that this…this was one of the reasons why he couldn’t completely give himself over to Harry: they were going to leave each other. It was no longer something that could be sugarcoated; after they graduated High School, they were going to be separated. Their lives were headed in different directions and with this house – the very house they were sitting in, the house in which so many monumental moments in their relationship happened, the first time they fell asleep with their feet tangled together, Harry’s Mom leaving, their first kiss, the thing that could’ve brought them back together as a meeting place when they both came home for holiday breaks – gone…they were going to be gone too. There was nothing to bring Harry back. Louis felt his blood stop moving and turn into cold, hard, cement for a few seconds as he pondered this…what was he going to do? There would be no more home: Louis was going to lose his home. He’d just started to realize how much he relied on Harry and began to act on it, yet it was going to be taken away like it was nothing…was this how Harry felt?  
“Yeah…” Harry was looking down at the ground and swung his feet back and forth: it was like a pendulum. Louis remembers that everything he thought about began to be associated with time. It was seriously frustrating him and he didn’t want to contemplate it anymore.  
“Okay…well, lets not think about that for now…what was the other news?”  
“Alright…” Harry seemed hesitant, but went along with it anyway, “so, ummm, my Dad knows.”  
“Knows what?”  
“About us.” Oh.  
“Oh.” Harry finally looked up at Louis with puppy eyes and fear winning the battle to take control over his facial features.  
“M’sorry, I just needed to tell him because I, ummm, I knew that if you were around while he was around, and I had to hide it in my own home…I wouldn’t, ummm, be happy. And, ummm, I probably couldn’t do it. M’sorry.” So Harry’s Dad knew. Louis should’ve been more upset with the news, but he wasn’t upset at all. He knew how broken Harry felt because of hiding, and was sort of glad he told his Dad. Harry shouldn’t have to feel like he couldn’t be himself in his own house: he didn’t deserve that. So Louis was actually relieved that one of the many reasons why Harry was upset with their…thing was kind of resolved. And his Dad didn’t seem to treat either of them differently from what he just experienced in the kitchen so,  
“I mean…he’s okay with it?” Louis found himself thinking out loud.  
“Yeah…actually, he’s ummm, he’s really happy and grateful that I have you in my life.” Louis smiled at that like he’d never smiled before. Approval…Harry’s Dad gave them approval. It was unimaginable in Louis’ mind. “I think that if it was someone else his response might not have been the same…but he knows that you’ve always been there for me…so he’s happy.” Something deep within Louis’ stomach started burning, and before he knew it, he was pulling Harry in for a huge kiss. Louis was grinning like an idiot against Harry’s lips; something in him couldn’t contain itself. The only mantra going through his mind was ‘yes, yes, yes, yes, yes’ stuck on an infinite repeat. Harry pulled their lips apart and rested his forehead on Louis’. “That was not the response I was expecting.” Harry laughed out. Louis felt their eyelashes fluttering together…so this was how a butterfly kiss felt: light.  
“I’m just…I’m really happy.” Harry rubbed their noses together.  
“Me too…” Harry pressed their lips together into a short kiss and then pulled back again, “I guess now would be a good time to tell you that my Mom and Robin know too.” Louis flat out laughed at this, his entire being shaking with joyfulness. He felt Harry start laughing with him as their bodies began to vibrate with laughter. It was the kind of laugh that came from somewhere within the depths of his being, some place Louis was completely unaware of before.  
“I guess it would…they approve too?”  
“Yeah. My Mom loves you.”  
“You really must never shut up about me.” Harry giggled.  
“No…but I can shut you up.”  
“When has anyone ever been able to sh– ” Harry shut him up with a kiss.

 

“So he’s in the ocean with no trunks on, and he starts yelling to me ‘Dad, I can’t find my trunks!’ and everybody else who’s swimming just backs away from him. Keep in mind, he’s only about five and doesn’t understand that if you’re going to pee in the ocean, you don’t have to completely take off your trunks.” Louis was in hysterics at this point, and Harry was hiding his beet read face in his hands. This probably wasn’t the normal dinner conversation between Harry and his Dad, but they had Louis and Rita to entertain, so embarrassing stories of Harry ensued.  
“Daaaad, please – ”  
“No, no, no, they need to hear the ending now.” Louis put his right hand on Harry’s left thigh and started patting it. Harry groaned, “So I tell him to stay there while I get out to find a towel, and then I hear him yell. I turn around, and see him running out buck naked with his dong just flapping around – ”  
“Dad!”  
“ – and he’s yelling ‘I need to poo!’ as he runs through the sand to the grassy area and just sits down: he took a dump on the grass.”  
“No way!” Louis exclaimed; he squeezed Harry’s thigh.  
“And then, like any gentleman would, he just walks away. I have no idea what to do, and quite frankly, I’m mortified. So I wrap a towel around him and start getting our stuff together so we can get the Hell out of there. And just as we’re about to leave, this guy walks up to us with Harry’s trunks in his hands and asks, ‘are these yours?’ Harry drops his towel right there, grabs the trunks, and puts them on. The guy is completely horrified and walks away, probably so he doesn’t get thrown in jail for looking at a naked little boy. That’s when I noticed that something smelled like shit. I say thanks, grab our stuff, Harry, and the towel from the ground only to notice that the towel has skid marks on it: Harry tried to use the towel as toilet paper. So I just drop the towel and we bolt out of there before anything else happens.” Louis, Mr. Styles, and Rita all erupted with laughter while Harry averted his attention to picking at his plate of chicken parmesan.  
“Oh my God, that’s classic.” Louis said as he wiped the tears from his eyes.  
“Yeah…lets see, what other stories are embarrassing enough to tell…”  
“Please, Dad? I think four stories is enough.”  
“There will never be enough embarrassing stories to tell about you.” Louis commented.  
“Oh, here’s a short nice one – Harry, I promise it’s not that embarrassing. He used to be quite the cheeky little toddler. When he was being interviewed to get into daycare, he pretended that he was a dog; I’m not kidding, he was walking around on all fours. Whenever they asked him a question, he would just bark at them. It’s a miracle they thought he was sane enough to let him be around other kids. Then for his entire first year of daycare, he refused to give anyone a real kiss. Instead, he would only give Eskimo kisses to everyone.” Louis and Rita both ‘awww’ed at this while Harry flat out let his head bang onto the table. Harry was always endearing, especially when he was embarrassed. “Next time he tries to kiss you, Lou, you should give him an Eskimo kiss.” Louis felt all of his senses go into overdrive at that moment. Even his ears flushed at the comment and he bit the inside of his cheek. His stomach became a blending machine, and the contents in it were churning about. So Mr. Styles really did know…and he seemed kind of comfortable with it. He mentioned it casually like, ‘oh yeah, you and my son kiss’. Louis thought that this was what he wanted to hear: someone affirming he could be normal. It turned out that wasn’t what he needed to hear.  
“Dad – ”  
“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to bring that up.”  
“No, it’s fine.” Louis reassured him. Well, he wasn’t sure who he was reassuring: Mr. Styles, Harry, or himself?  
“You sure? I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything.”  
“Don’t worry about it.”  
The fact that Mr. Styles brought up the relationship between his son and Louis so nonchalantly was strange. It was like he didn’t really care that they were…well, being Harry and Louis.  
Louis thought he would be okay with that, and in a way he was.  
But it freaked him out.  
It really, truly hit something deep within him. Something that said ‘hey, this is permanent’.  
And he was terrified.

 

The next day before Harry took Louis home, he gave him his birthday present. They agreed to not spend any money on presents for each other, but Louis was perplexed by the gift. It was a sealed envelope, and Harry gave him the instructions not to open it for a few weeks. Louis didn’t feel like waiting, so when he got home he tried opening it…only to find another envelope inside of it with ‘I knew you would try to open this before I told you to. DON’T OPEN IT YET!!!’ written on it. Louis couldn’t help but laugh to himself because of course Harry knew he would try to open it. For safekeeping, he put the envelope under his bed mattress and waited. 

 

1998 finally came around the bend, and after eighteen years of waiting, Louis would finally graduate from High School. He wasn’t sure when that started to stress him out so much, but Louis hated to even think about it; it was a final command that he had to leave everything he knew behind and trade it in for the unknown. Louis hated to think about a lot of things these days because of all the uncertainty they brought up.  
He ignored them instead.

 

Friday, January 16th marked a day until it would be a year that he and Harry kissed for the first time. Harry was tucked into Louis’ side as they watched Aladdin. Louis was much more focused on combing his fingers through Harry’s hair, giving each and every single curl the attention it deserved, and thinking about how much things had changed since last year. Sure, there were some things that hadn’t necessarily transformed for the best…but Harry had remained true to his promise and stayed with Louis through it all.  
“Dammit.” Harry murmured. Louis looked down to see Harry playing with his bracelet.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“The string broke.” Harry held the long chain of threads in his hand; it was remarkable that the thing made it through almost a year in one piece. All of the colors were faded, especially the orange, which had bled into the white and completely lost its vigor.  
“I’m surprised it took this long to be honest.” Harry looked up at Louis with a pout on his face; he was extraordinarily mature, but sometimes Harry knew how to look like an innocent little kid better than actual children.  
“Tie it back on?”  
“The string separated into weak threads; it won’t stay if I tie it back on.” Harry let out a small whine and let his head fall onto Louis’ chest.  
“Should I tape it or something?”  
“Haz…it wasn’t made to last forever.” 

 

Harry’s birthday fell on a Monday, so they baked their own cake for him the Friday night before to celebrate. They used cake mix from the box, yet still managed to get more of it on each other’s faces than in the bowl. Louis didn’t realize how much he missed seeing the bracelet on Harry until it was actually gone; it was like a part of Louis himself was physically missing from Harry’s body. To try and make up for it, Louis gave Harry one of his beanie hats for his birthday. Harry thanked him, clearly grateful for it, but something wasn’t the same. Maybe it was that the hope in Harry’s eyes was completely lost now, replaced by a dreary outlook; or maybe, it was something between Harry and Louis themselves, every action feeling less and less permanent. Everything was so engraved before. Now, everything was just grave.  
That night Louis had his arm draped over Harry’s naked body, their figures perfectly lined up just as things were supposed to be. As he was about to completely drift off into the unconscious World of his mind, he barely heard Harry whisper, “You don’t hold me as tightly as you used to.” And it was true; Louis thought that if he held on looser, eventually letting go would be easier. It wasn’t easy to do, but it was necessary to do. Louis wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear it or not though, so he fell asleep instead of asking any questions.

 

It was March 18th when Louis found out he was accepted into Syracuse University School of Architecture, his first choice college. He committed to the school, and the next four years of his future would be spent in Syracuse, New York. It was exhilarating, but also terrifying. Harry mapped it out and found that it was four hours away from Philadelphia. So visits to the other city was out of the question.

 

On March 19th, the ‘For Sale’ sign was put up outside of Harry’s house.

 

It was the first weekend of May after they finished fooling around when Harry decided to bring up one of the many things Louis didn’t want to talk about. He was pressing kisses into Louis’ collarbone, both of them coming down from their highs, and Louis was elated. “Are we ever gonna…y’know…” Harry pressed another kiss down on Louis’ skin as Louis gingerly traced his finger up and down Harry’s back.  
“Hmm?” Louis muttered into Harry’s ear. His head was still spinning and everything felt like perfection with Harry’s body warmth radiating onto Louis’. There were times when Louis could’ve sworn that their two bodies were actually one.  
“Ummm…like us…having sex?” And Louis’ heart skipped a beat. Yes, he thought about it before…well he thought about it several times before. Louis was okay with the idea of it, but when he actually thought about doing it…it just didn’t make sense. Honestly, Louis wasn’t sure how to do it; who would be going into who, where did they go into, what would happen to their relationship afterwards, and did he want to lose his virginity to someone who would eventually leave? Each time, the thoughts intimidated him more and more until he forced himself to stop thinking about it.  
“Well, I – ummm, I dunno.”  
“Like…a maybe?”  
“I don’t…Haz, I don’t know.” Harry looked up at him with a small, almost indiscernible sparkle in his eyes, and Louis couldn’t help but feel guilty.  
“Why not?”  
“I just…things are fine the way that they are.” Harry rested his chin on Louis’ chest, eyebrows creasing downwards.  
“You really like that phrase.”  
“I guess.” Louis carded his fingers though Harry’s hair to try and calm them down into sleeping, not talking. Harry closed his eyes for a few seconds, looking calm and pensive; Louis was kind of grateful for it…until Harry opened his eyes and said,  
“It annoys me.” He had a bad feeling that this would happen; now they were inevitably going to get into a fight because Harry wanted to talk.  
“Why? Things are fine.”  
“Things aren’t fine and they can’t stay the same, Lou…they never do. We’re not gonna be the same as we are now in a few months – ”  
“I don’t really wanna talk about this – ”  
“You never wanna talk about anything, though.” Harry sounded hurt and frustrated. Louis began to massage Harry’s scalp to try and stop the impending argument; Harry melted into the touch, and softly spoke, “How are we supposed to solve these problems if you refuse to talk about them?”  
“I don’t refuse to talk – ”  
“Yes, you do! It’s the same thing over and over again: you don’t wanna talk, and then you deny that anything is wrong.”  
“Oh, come on – ”  
“You’re doing it right now.” Harry mumbled before rolling off of Louis’ body and lying on his back. Louis’ body was trying to force itself back to Harry’s at the loss of contact and warmth; he was going to reach out to link their hands together and pull Harry back in, but his mind told him to stop. They lay next to each other in the dark for a minute or so. Louis remembers wondering when Harry stopped emitting his own light. Before he was like a full moon on the darkest night; now, he wore the night as camouflage, his figure barely discernable. Harry’s voice came out as a whisper, “Please…just stop…pretending.” Louis sighed, completely burnt out. Harry definitely caught on that Louis avoided talking about all of the ‘what ifs’ and was upset with it. Louis didn’t want to fight anymore…with Harry and with himself. His body was tired, and he was getting too worn out by everything.  
“There’s just…there’s too much to think about.” He admitted.  
“Then lets talk about it all for once. Problems don’t magically solve themselves.” Louis stayed silent; he was hoping that the problems would walk away if he avoided a confrontation with them for long enough. Whatever happened to things just lining up? Evidently, that wasn’t the case. “How are we supposed to keep things going…how are we supposed to improve…us? You don’t even wanna talk about it.”  
“There’s nothing to improve.” Harry huffed out a breath and turned on his side, his back to Louis. That wasn’t good.  
“You know, you’ve done a great job convincing that to yourself. If I didn’t know you, I think I might even believe it.” His voice was cold. Louis wanted more than anything in the World for things to go back to the way that they were ten minutes ago; the two of them wrapped up in each other’s bliss and totally elated. He finally decided to move so his chest was lined up with Harry’s back and wrapped his arm around Harry’s waist. Slowly and softly, Louis pressed kiss after kiss to the back of his neck, right below where Harry’s hairline was, the silky curls tickling the tip of Louis’ nose. Maybe that would make up for the words Louis couldn’t speak. “Have you always been embarrassed of us?” Louis was dumbfounded by the question: embarrassed? Again with this question?  
“What?”  
“You’ve managed to convince yourself that we’re not dating. You’ve tricked yourself into thinking you’re not gay. You try to make me believe that we’re genuinely not dating. I know that you were scared going into this…but are you scared because of me, or yourself, or just everything combined?”  
Harry somehow always managed to face the questions Louis was too afraid to.  
“I’m not…embarrassed.”  
“Yes you are; you’re the fool to your own lies. You must be too embarrassed and afraid to face the truth, so instead you make up your own reality.” His own reality? Sure, everything felt like a dream for the past year, but that didn’t mean he made up his own reality…did he? He never lied to himself.  
“I don’t – ”  
“Stop telling me you don’t; I know that you do. I’ve been ignoring it for the past year because if that’s the only way I’d be able to have you, I’d do it…I still do it. But, I dunno how much longer I can have you for.” Louis’ internal organs started their own Civil War against one another at this moment: his stomach punching his intestines, his intestines kicking his stomach, his heart pounding his lungs, his lungs jabbing his heart, his whole body clobbering him, and he himself fighting his own body.  
“What do you mean…”  
“I mean that I’m tired of not knowing the answers anymore. I know that there’s not a lot of time left, and I need you to stop ignoring everything so that there’s not a huge gaping hole in my life when we go to college…I’m still gonna wanna be with you, but not like this.” Harry must’ve meant the ‘be with you’ as staying best friends…right? Wait,  
“Not like this?” The words clawed Louis’ throat as they climbed out.  
“This constant back and forth, me always chasing your tail, sort of thing. I feel like you’re always five steps ahead of me and I can’t keep up…I never know what exactly you’re thinking…and I don’t think you want me to.” So maybe Harry had a point. Louis did keep things from Harry, but he had a valid reason for it: he was protecting Harry from dealing with all of the questions that frequently raced through his own mind. Maybe Harry wanted to know, but it was safer and better not to…right?  
“Haz…I need you to understand that as much as you think that, I’m pretty sure you know me better than anyone else. I think…I think you always have. Even though I may not tell you or show you enough…you always know. It’s just…everything matters now. We’re not kids who can have a carefree attitude towards life anymore: it’s…it’s kind of terrifying.” Louis sighed into Harry’s neck. “When did things get so real?” He huffed out a crippling laugh; he really did sound pathetic.  
“Probably when we weren’t paying attention.” Harry mumbled drowsily into his pillow. Louis buried his face into the back of Harry’s neck and just breathed him in: the softness of his skin, the goose bumps on his neck where Louis’ breathing was focused, and the sweet, cozy, relaxing aroma he always exuded.  
“Are you scared?” Louis unintentionally found himself blurting out. He wasn’t sure what he was asking Harry he was scared of, but he needed to know that he wasn’t the only fearful one. Harry grabbed Louis’ hand in his own, fingers easily lacing together like they always did, and answered,  
“Yes.”  
They didn’t say anything else that night.  
Louis fell asleep thinking about the time Harry had asked him the same question; it felt like ages ago. It was remarkable how similar the two times were…yet how extraordinarily different they were. All Louis knew was that he was scared; but Harry was scared too, and that mutual fearfulness made everything a bit more bearable.

 

The next morning, Louis awoke to Harry’s head tucked into his own neck, their chests brushing against each other when they breathed in, and Harry’s right leg draped over both of Louis’. Whereas Harry always had a glow about him before, the ever-present gleam was turned into a dull, faint glisten that could barely be seen. His pale face was starting to be colored in by the transition from winter to spring. However, as his skin gained color, his glow lost its luminosity. He looked so peaceful, his long eyelashes sealed together, protecting him from the inconvenient truths of reality. The tops of his eyelids looked as though they had been covered in a layer of night snow. His plump, rose lips were slightly parted, breathing in the air that touched Louis’ skin. His wild curly hair that he refused to cut was unabashedly flared over his forehead.  
Harry was unconditionally beautiful, both his physical body and his self, that it hurt Louis.  
Just looking at him caused a physical pain in the form of a fire pit hiding somewhere beneath his stomach. A weight the mass of an elephant was thrown onto his chest. Everything Louis had previously known was crashing and burning and being completely destroyed. Now, it was all replaced with something else much heavier, but at the same time much lighter. Maybe it was the ashes from the fire, or maybe it was that the fire itself was still there; rather than scorching everything Louis once knew to pieces, it had become a source of light. It turned from a blazing, and destructive red, to a soft, comfortable, pleasant, and inviting blue.  
Then Harry’s eyelashes fluttered open, and the spark that had once taken such dominance over every single speck of his eyes was completely gone.  
And it was all too much to handle.  
And it was far too late to handle it.

 

It was Thursday, May 14th when Harry told him the news.  
After school, Harry asked if they could just take a walk around the campus instead of immediately going home. Louis agreed because it was Harry, and because he hadn’t seen him all day. Harry didn’t say anything while they walked, and Louis knew something happened. Somehow, they ended up on the swing set in the Middle School playground, neither actually interested in swinging. They both stayed on the ground, swaying back and forth. There were at least twenty kids playing on the huge jungle gym, but all Louis could focus on was Harry. Harry, the one who always kept his promises. Harry, the one who would help a fly and not hurt it. Harry, the one who kept the door open for strangers. Harry, the one who gave and gave and gave, and barely ever asked for anything in return. Harry, the one that brought Louis in and out of reality. Harry, the one who was always unconditionally there. Harry, the one who was always so sure of everything. Harry, the one with the sweet, comforting, molasses voice. Harry, the one with eyes that challenged the fields of Ireland. Harry, the one who was always beautiful and wonderful and magnificent.  
Harry, the one who deserved so much better than what Louis could give him.  
Louis moved his swing to the right and bumped into Harry; he looked up from his huge, pigeon-toed feet, and tried to give a slight half-smile to Louis. It didn’t work.  
“What’s wrong?” Louis asked. Harry pressed his lips together, shook his head, and looked back down at his feet. Louis couldn’t stand not knowing any longer, so he got up and kneeled in front of Harry’s now motionless swing, putting his hands on Harry’s knees and squeezing them before quietly asking once more, “What’s wrong?”  
“The house.” Harry was clutching onto the chains suspending the swing in the air like if he let go, he would fall from the top of the Empire State Building.  
“What about it?” He finally looked at Louis with water glistening on top of his lower eyelids.  
“It sold.” A tear fell from Harry’s bloodshot eyes onto Louis’ hand. Maybe it was weird to think, but Louis thought Harry looked absolutely breath taking when he cried: the red of his sclera made his normally green irises turn into a horizon of never ending shades of blue, teal, and green. Scientists could discover new, never before seen colors if they only looked into Harry’s eyes; he really was something unique. “My parents are coming in for graduation, and the day after, I go to Norway for the summer.”  
And Louis’ stomach had suddenly become a sinkhole.  
So this was it. This was what the clock was ticking down to.  
All they had left was three weeks and six days.  
Louis suddenly felt very faint, but still strong enough to put on a brave face for Harry as he pulled him into one of the tightest hugs they’d ever had. Harry’s tears soaked Louis’ shirt, but he didn’t mind: he still had Harry.  
And he shouldn’t be holding on this tight; it wasn’t healthy.  
But Louis wouldn’t be healthier at all if he didn’t hold on. So he clutched on.  
If only for three weeks and six days.

 

The following day when Louis saw that red ‘Sold’ circle on the ‘For Sale’ sign, he swore it mocked him; ‘Look at what I’m taking away’ ‘Look at what you can’t have’ ‘Look at what you could never keep’ ‘Look at how much you want me’ ‘Look at how much you need me’ ‘Look at how stupid you were for thinking you could have it all’ ‘Look at how fucked over you are’.  
So when Louis pinned Harry down to the bed and loitered hickeys all around his collarbone, barely coming up for air, it was because he desperately needed to shut that red dot up.

 

The rest of May flew by without Louis’ permission. He and Harry talked less and touched more. Not that they were constantly fooling around, it was actually the opposite. It was filled with those constant gentle touches; the times that they would reach out to feel the other just to make sure they were still there. Louis was determined to memorize each dip, bump, and curve of Harry’s body, even the parts Harry didn’t like. Louis adored every single inch of Harry’s body; there wasn’t anything about it that he would change. But no matter how bright the sun got, each day would feel more and more dismal. It was like sand falling through Louis’ fingertips. There was no way he could stop it. Each time he looked at Harry, it was like chiseling ice down until it was just broken pieces that would eventually melt into water anyway. He tried to appreciate each day, but each day it only got worse. Maybe it was his stubbornness to accept and adjust to change that made things so difficult. Or maybe…  
Maybe it was the dam he had been building up for years now, refusing to let any new terrifying thoughts or ideas into his mind.

 

One of the most beautifully broken-hearted memories Louis has was his last morning in Harry’s house. It was the Saturday before graduation. He had just gotten dressed and was standing in front of the full body mirror, using his fingers to slowly comb away his bed-hair. The room was completely silent; no words had been spoken since the two woke up. Louis knew that this would be the last time he spent in Harry’s room, and was trying to savor every little thing about it. But it was all too much; he couldn’t do it. There were boxes everywhere. It wasn’t the same anymore. He could barely recognize the room. He could barely recognize himself in the mirror. His eyes were blank, and his body was lifeless. And he just really hated everything.  
But that’s when Louis saw Harry’s reflection standing behind his in the mirror. His breath hitched for some reason as his eyes focused in on the somber boy, his face completely shattered. Louis hated seeing him like that. With their gazes focused on each other, Louis stuck his tongue out at Harry, and a weary, drained out smile appeared on Harry’s face. His dimples were missing. Harry walked forward, flushed his chest against Louis’ back, wrapped his arms around Louis’ waist, and dropped his chin onto Louis’ right shoulder. Louis put his hands over top of Harry’s, and they just stayed there in silence for a few seconds. The only thing Louis focused on was the faint in and out of Harry’s breath along with the warmth of their two bodies. When he looked up at the mirror, he saw for the first time in his life what they looked like together.  
And they looked perfect. Their bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle; his curves merged faultlessly with Harry’s slender body. And God damn it, why was this happening? How could everything so perfect also be so perfectly ruined?  
And then Harry started humming a tune, the melody making each miniscule hair inside of Louis’ ear stand up straight. Harry started slightly swaying their bodies back and forth with his eyes closed. Louis relaxed into the touch, and then he recognized the tune.  
“Landslide?” Harry’s blubbery chuckle vibrated throughout Louis’ body. And then Harry’s humming turned into soft singing.  
“Oh mirror in the sky, what is love?” Harry paused and sniffled. “Can the child within my heart rise above?” His voice was weak and shaking. “Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life?” They stopped swaying as Harry muzzled his face into Louis’ neck and started singing into his skin, “Well I’ve been afraid of changing” He paused and Louis felt a few cold tears fall onto his warm neck, creating a numbness. Louis leaned his head to the right so it was resting on top of Harry’s curls and squeezed their hands together, “cause I’ve built my life around you…” his voice cracked and now Harry was silently sobbing, his sniffles echoing throughout the room. Louis decided to finish for him.  
“But time makes you bolder, even children get older” and now Louis was crying onto Harry’s hair as he sang the last words, “I’m getting older too.” His chest had collapsed in on itself a while ago. Louis refused to look in the mirror because he would see the two of them looking like total wrecks and would probably lose it even more than he already had.  
“What are w – we gonna d – do?” Harry whispered out. Louis shed a few more damp tears before telling him,  
“We’re gonna have the best d – damn graduation ever.”  
“An – and afterwards?”  
“You’ll have a g – great summer in Norway, have the most fantastic experience at P – Penn, and be happy.” Harry held onto Louis tighter as his sobbing increased, his trembling body making Louis quake with a fresh round of tears.  
“Wh – what ab – bout us?”  
“Well…we won’t b – be there with each other, but we’ll always be w – with each other.” They stayed in silence for a few more moments as their crying died down into sniffles.  
“I don’t wanna leave.” Harry whispered.  
“I know.”  
“It’s kinda ironic…you s – said you wouldn’t leave me wh – when we were freshmen and I was drunk off – ff my ass. Now I’m the one le – leaving.”  
“Thought you said you didn’t remember that night.”  
“I puked and acted like a p – poor, needy little kid; wh – o would want to admit that?” Louis wetly chuckled, his tears somehow trailed down from his eyes to his throat.  
“Guess so.” They stood there in silence for a few more minutes, drinking up every last drop of the moment. Harry was still beautiful when he cried. Harry was always beautiful. Then Harry quietly breathed into Louis’ ear,  
“Promise you won’t forget me?”  
And it was official: Louis was now shattered into even more pieces than Harry.  
“Couldn’t even if I was forced to.” Harry lifted his head up and looked Louis in the eyes.  
“Me too.”  
So Louis did the only thing he could think of and pressed their lips together one last time.

 

Graduation day is kind of a blur for Louis. He remembers when Harry received his diploma, Mr. Styles, Harry’s Mom and Robin, Louis, and even Lottie cheered as loud as they could for him, with a few pictures being snapped. He remembers when he received his diploma, his parents, Lottie, and the whole Styles crew cheered as loud as possible and more pictures were snapped. He remembers the ‘Congratulations Class of 1998’. He remembers pulling Harry into his side and Mr. Styles taking a picture of them. He remembers the last conversation he had with Harry when they were hugging.  
“When will we see each other again?” Harry asked. Louis didn’t know. Louis really didn’t know. Nothing was lined up for them anymore. He was terrified.  
“Soon.” Harry gripped onto Louis tighter and Louis did the same. Louis tried to take in everything about the moment: the way his arms fit around Harry’s waist, the way Harry’s arms were fastened around Louis’ upper body, the way Harry’s skin was the best thing Louis had ever felt, the way their bodies were aligned together, the way Harry was perfect, and how secure everything was…yet, how uncertain everything was. The way Louis could never have him.  
“Why does this feel like the end?” Harry asked with a shaky voice. And Louis could only respond teary eyed with,  
“Because I can never say goodbye to you.” They finally separated, and Louis felt like everything was broken when he saw tears falling onto Harry’s cheeks. Something inside of Louis’ chest tightened up at the sight; he gently rested his hand on Harry’s face and wiped the wet droplets with his fingertips, “I’ll see you when I see you?”  
“Okay.” 

 

It was the next night that Louis was physically distraught, everything in him needing something of Harry to grab onto, something to touch again, something to know Harry was still there, even though he wasn’t. It was 2am and he couldn’t get to sleep. Then, he remembered; it was amazing that he forgot about it for six months. Louis raised his bed mattress up, clutched onto the white envelope, and turned the lamp resting atop of his bedside table on. He carefully lifted the letter out of the envelope, folded it open, and ran his hand over the handwriting, silently laughing to himself because wow, he was so pathetic.

‘Lou,  
HAPPY 18th BIRTHDAY!!!! WHOOO!!!! I hope that your day is fantastic!!!  
I guess I’ll start when we met each other in first grade. That was 1986, eleven years ago…is it just me or is that weird? I remember when you asked me to play with you, and you actually believed you would find lava. I kinda thought you were weird, which you still are, but I think I knew back then that you were somebody I could be friends with. Fast forward six years later when we actually did become friends, and we’ve been attached at the hip ever since. I think I always knew that there was something different about you…I’m still not sure what it is, but you’ve always been something more than anyone else to me. You’ve always been there for me, and are the definition of a best friend. I think I’ll list the things I like about you:  
You always make me laugh. Even when I don’t wanna laugh, you manage to do it anyway. Oh wait, remember that time in ninth grade when you kept imitating Ms. Bannist behind her back? I was dying and then she yelled at me for it and you acted like you did nothing. That’s kinda what I’m talking about. But also when I’m upset about anything, you can put a smile on my face. You can always make me happy.  
Your smile. You have a really nice smile…and nice lips. Just saying.  
Your eyes. I think I could look into your eyes forever and not get tired of it.  
You have crinkles by your eyes when you smile. That’s how I know that you’re actually happy. I get to see your crinkles a lot and I feel honored.  
Your hugs. I always feel safe in your arms. Like whatever happens, as long as I’m in your arms, I’ll be okay.  
The way you look at me.  
Your personality. You’re so caring, warm-hearted, funny, brave, loving, empathetic, selfless, charming, generous, trustworthy, dependable, compassionate, passionate, affectionate, thoughtful, and loving. Wait, I said loving twice. Oh well.  
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m so grateful that you’re in my life. We’ve been through so much together, and I don’t think I could’ve done it all without you. You’re everything I could’ve ever wanted in a person, and you’re everything I aim to be. You’re everything to me. You’re my family, and I don’t know what I’d do without you. I think I’d probably be lost. Anyway, I’m running out of space so I need to end this soon. I guess I didn’t want you to open this right away because I need to tell you something and I thought it would make more sense to wait a bit…just in case. Alright, so, I think I’m falling for you. Maybe this isn’t what you want to hear or how you want to hear it, but I needed to tell you. I hope by the time you’re reading this that I’ve already gotten the guts and half of the bravery you have to tell you this in person. But, if I haven’t, now you know. I guess that I’m asking you to think about us…really think. There’s something special about you…something special about us. I hope that we can talk about it, because there’s so much more I wanna tell you, but I don’t wanna write it down. Shit, no more space. HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOUIS!!!!  
Love always,  
Harry’ 

And Louis sobbed for the third time that day, his tears staining the paper and splotching the ink. Because Harry could keep all of his promises to Louis, and Louis couldn’t be what Harry needed. The way Harry clearly saw Louis was exactly the opposite of how Louis handled their relationship.  
He let Harry down in every way imaginable.  
‘I think I’m falling for you’  
Louis read over the words over and over and over and over and over again.  
‘I think I’m falling for you’  
‘I think I’m falling for you’  
‘I think I’m falling for you’  
‘I think I’m falling for you’  
Louis felt the sobs rocking his body, his breath being hiccupped in, because how? How could Harry fall for him? How did Harry have such a warped view of who Louis was? How did Harry have so much hope? How did Harry believe in Louis?  
‘I hope by the time you’re reading this that I’ve already gotten the guts and half of the bravery you have to tell you this in person’  
Harry never told him.  
He could’ve, but he didn’t.  
Why?  
Louis wished he’d remembered the letter five months ago so he could’ve thought about all of this then, not now. Not when he was already broken and clasping onto the letter because it was all so…Harry. This was all he had left. Everything was all too much. Everything was all the biggest load of fucking bullshit that had ever happened to Louis.  
‘the bravery you have’  
Bravery? Louis wasn’t brave at all.  
He was a coward.  
Harry was right: Louis hid from himself. Louis hid from Harry. Louis hid from his parents. Louis hid from Lottie. Louis hid from everyone. Just because he couldn’t face up to who he really was. He never told Harry that Josh knew, because it wasn’t okay for people to know who he was…who he is.  
And because of that, Louis had just let the best thing in his life walk away and he didn’t even try to stop him.  
But there wasn’t any way he could’ve stopped this from happening…was there? This day had to come, and they didn’t prepare for it at all.  
It was Louis’ fault.  
Everything that was happening…everything that did happen was all Louis’ fault. Harry always wanted to talk but Louis was too afraid to because he couldn’t stop thinking. Maybe if Louis had faced up to who he was and accepted it before, they could’ve talked about it, and they wouldn’t be in this position.  
Before Harry was gone.  
Before it was too late.  
If only Louis had accepted sooner that he fell for Harry.  
Before it was all over.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello amazing readers!!!  
> We're finally in the future and Zayn, Liam, and Niall are here!!!!! This update is really about setting things up for the second half of the story, and the next update should be out in a few days (and someone will be coming back hinthintwinkwinknudgenudge)!!  
> I'd love to hear your feedback :)

Here Louis Tomlinson was.  
Thirty-four years old, hunched over the office toilet, and hurling up his lunch because of four simple words: “Yeah, you know him?”

 

The day had started out just like any other; Louis went into Zayn’s office to have their early morning chat. Zayn was typically there at 8:15 am, so when Louis arrived at 8:30, he always had his trusty partner-in-crime to be accompanied by. And just like every other day, the raven-haired man sat at his desk, eyes glued to the glowing screen of his laptop, and rolling a cigarette in between his middle and index finger while puffing out a breath of white smoke. His office, unlike Louis’, had a permanent haze to it. Louis swatted his hand back and forth while walking in.  
“This is an office, not a fume box.” To be honest, Louis didn’t mind at all. The cigarette smell didn’t faze him anymore since he’d been around Zayn for sixteen years. Louis thinks that after his sophomore year in college, he stopped noticing the aroma. Now, he just liked busting Zayn’s balls for fun. “I swear, I’m gonna get second hand lung cancer from your shit.” Zayn looked up from the trance his laptop put him in and stared at Louis stone-faced.  
“You would’ve gotten it by now.” Louis sat in his respected chair across from the desk and took a sip of his coffee.  
“Not necessarily; I could get it at any point. Do you want a guilty conscious?”  
“Stop complaining. You choose to hang out with me.”  
“Mmmm,” Louis turned around in the chair to look out at the office. There were always two times during the day when it looked strange: when it was deserted until 9 in the morning and after 5:15 in the evening. The six white desks were completely void of life, none of the computers turned on, the reception desk vacant, the meeting room empty, the table in the middle of the office loitered with papers and models but clear of hands, and no phones ringing. Well, the last one was kind of nice, but it was still unnerving to Louis that the firm could be vibrant with life and energy, and then cleared of it within a moment’s time. “I don’t really have too much of an option right now so…”  
“Guess you’re stuck.”  
“Guess so.” Louis turned around to see Zayn huffing out another breath of smoke with his eyes trained back on his laptop screen. “C’mon, stop working for a second and talk.”  
“The final presentation for that new organic market needs to be done before the meeting on Monday.”  
“It’s Wednesday. Shut your laptop for five minutes and talk to me.” Zayn moved his jaw side to side; he’d always do this whenever he was stressed. From the time that Louis met him freshman year, Zayn was the type of person with a laid back demeanor, but a closeted workaholic at heart. Louis didn’t realize it until they were smoking pot a month into school, both had over ten hits and Louis was pleasantly detached from his mind, when Zayn said, “you can keep smoking, but I gotta finish this calculus problem set”. It was due the next week and the professor graded them on completion. So, Zayn’s a perfectionist and Louis’ a procrastinator. That’s how it’s always been, and there’s no changing it. In the beginning, Louis didn’t think they would work well together, but they’ve pretty much mastered the art of balancing each other out. Liam, on the other hand, embodies their yin-yang-ness, which is probably why the three have always worked so well together.  
“What happens when this isn’t done on time?”  
“You always say that and it’s always done on time.” Zayn rolled his bistre brown eyes and finally closed the laptop. “Thank you.”  
“Alright, what do you wanna talk about?” He raised the cigarette back to his lips.  
“How was your night?” Zayn’s lips formed a round ‘o’ as he exhaled.  
“Dandy. And yours?” Zayn had a habit of being sarcastic in the mornings. It rubbed off on Louis; in fact, ever since college, Louis had reached a new level of snarkiness. Some people could handle it, others not so much. He’d also become the one to make a fair amount of sexual remarks, but that was a different story.  
“It was okay…had a weird dream.” He raised his mug of coffee to his mouth and took a sip.  
“Care to go into detail?”  
“If I do, you can’t laugh.”  
“I make no promises.” Louis crossed his right leg over his left and started bouncing his foot up and down; that was usually the telltale sign that the caffeine was kicking in.  
“So, you know the Wizard of Oz?”  
“I swear to God if this is some demented wet dream about a porno you watched –”  
“Oh, fuck off! I’ve never watched an Oz porno.”  
“So you know that they exist?”  
“This isn’t the point!” Zayn quietly chuckled to himself. “Ha ha. I’m Zayn the pain in the ass Malik. I’m so funny.” Louis tried to impersonate the way Zayn pronounced everything he said. Zayn had been told multiple times that he should be a radio host, but he took it to the next level when they were sophomores and miserably failed at being a DJ. Liam and Louis sometimes called him DJ Malik just to piss him off.  
“I make myself laugh.”  
“Course you do. Can I continue?” Zayn nodded. “So anyway, I was standing there in front of the Emerald City. Nothing happened, I just stood there, looking at it the whole time. Like, I tired to move, but I couldn’t.”  
“Were you paralyzed or something?”  
“I don’t think so. Like, I tired to move my legs but my body wouldn’t let me.”  
“Hmmm…” Zayn took another drag. “freaky.”  
“Yeah…”  
“Good Morning!” The bubbly, warm voice came from behind Louis; he knew it was Liam, because Liam usually got to the firm five minutes after Louis and was annoyingly cheerful in the morning. Zayn’s attention went straight over Louis’ head as he said,  
“Hey, what’s up?” Liam sat down in his respective chair next to Louis’. The three talking for a few minutes before they dove into work each day had become protocol.  
“You will not believe what just happened to me.” Liam’s face looked red like he’d been in a marathon and ran to the office immediately after he crossed the finish line. In actuality, his apartment was five blocks away from the firm.  
“You were in the middle of a shoot out?” Louis inquired.  
“You were hit on by a prostitute?” Zayn followed along.  
“A police dog chased you!”  
“A flock of pigeons chased you!”  
“Really, Zayn? Pigeons? You couldn’t have at least made it, like, a rabid squirrel?”  
“Pigeons are terrifying.”  
“What are you smoking?”  
“I’m serious! Haven’t you ever had one swoop down and try to steal your food?”  
“That’s called a seagull.”  
“Pigeons do it too!”  
“Could you two stop!” Liam finally yelled; they always did this to him. It was astonishing that Liam had the capability to put up with them for so long. He should’ve run as far away as possible freshman year while he had the chance to. “None of that happened.”  
“C’mon, can’t you just pretend that you have an exciting story for once?” Louis asked. Liam frowned in confusion.  
“All of my stories are exciting.”  
“Like the one about you chasing the moth around your apartment for an hour?”  
“It was flying everywhere!”  
“That doesn’t make it exciting.”  
“You clearly weren’t there then.”  
“Uh huh.”  
“If you’d just let me tell my story – ”  
“By all means, the stage is yours.”  
“Thank you.” Liam huffed out. It had become an exercise for Louis to get Liam all riled up in the morning because it helped Louis get out all of his snarky comments before he had to deal with clients during the day. He learnt the lesson of ‘never talk to back to the client’ the hard way while he was an intern eight years ago. The client was being a smart-ass though, so he had it coming to him at some point; Louis was just the first person to call him out on it. “So you know that coffee bar in Rittenhouse Square? This old lady started working there a month ago, and she’s seen me every morning and memorized my order. After the whole ‘how are you today?’ mandatory short conversation, she says, ‘you know, you and my granddaughter would look nice together’ and I’m like okayyy crazy old lady here. But then she pulls out her phone and shows me a picture, and the granddaughter is actually this really attractive brunette.” Liam had a way of flicking his head between people whenever he was talking to more than one person. It wasn’t an ordinary head turn like any normal person; it was a literal flick of his head back and forth. He was also fond of extravagant hand gestures whenever he explained a story or did a presentation. “So she asks if I’m interested, and I’m like, oh what the hell, sure. She said she’ll call her granddaughter and let me know tomorrow if the granddaughter’s interested in going on a blind date with me or not. Crazy, right?”  
“Hmmm.” Zayn hummed.  
“What?” Liam was looked concerned as to why this was Zayn’s reaction.  
“It’s just kind of odd…”  
“How?”  
“What if she’s a psycho?”  
“Oh, please.”  
“I’m serious; you can never be sure…she’s definitely over eighteen?” Liam rolled his eyes.  
“Yes.”  
“Do you know her name?”  
“Yeah, I –…wait…” Liam brought his right hand up to his face as he scratched his scruff. He was in the process of growing a beard, although that process had lasted for more than three months at this point. “I…I don’t think I asked.”  
“Oh yes!” Louis clapped his right hand on his thigh, “This is clearly a fantastic start to the relationship of the century!” Zayn laughed, making the smoke he was exhaling come out in huffs.  
“I say we call her Gammy’s girl.” Zayn suggested.  
“At least I have a date unlike you two.”  
“Alright one:” Louis put up his index finger and looked Liam in the eye, “it’s not a date yet. Not until Gammy says so. And two:” he added his middle finger to the air, “Zayn and I are actually secret lovers, thus why we don’t go out on dates with other people. Isn’t that right, honey?” Zayn was cracking up, already in his state of silent hysterics as he brought his head down to his desk. “He says yes.”  
“Sure he does.”

 

Louis was the Contract Administrator of their firm: he talked to the builder, answered any questions the builders may have about the construction drawings, researched the drawings, visited the job sites, and made corrections to the drawings because as good as everyone in their firm was, mistakes happened. This was by no means what he originally thought about doing when he went to Syracuse. However, it was clear that out of he, Zayn, and Liam, he had the most confidence when dealing with clients and contractors because he was clear, concise, and took no bullshit. Some people had a way of running around a question, and Louis was always the one who hit it right on the nose and told people exactly how things were. He wasn’t harsh; actually, he was good at getting people engaged and making them laugh. The goal was to make the client happy…well that and make money. But Louis was good at not talking down to people, and instead he talked to them on the same level. This was mainly the reason he got assigned the job, because Liam, no matter how nice and genuine the guy was, had a way of talking down to people as if they were his inferior, and Zayn wasn’t that great at making conversation with new people.  
Zayn had the title of Head Design Architect: he was in charge of the artistic side of the process. This included freehand sketching, making initial computer generated images of the projects, making the three dimensional model, and putting together presentations for clients. It was clear from their freshman year that Zayn was the definitely most artistically talented out of the three; sometimes to distress himself, he would draw cartoons that were worthy of being in The New Yorker. Liam was the Lead Production Architect: he produced the blueprints for the buildings. He had an uncanny knack for correcting and modifying building plans with computer-aided design software and loved doing it. He was also the most patient out of the three of them, and was able to sit down and do the same thing over and over again, like drawing screws in a piece of wood. When he wasn’t, though, he’d usually give the task to Dan, Jon, or Perrie. Louis, Zayn, and Liam made up the Senior Staff, even though they were all considered young to the World of architecture.  
Their firm was small, only ten people strong, but as Zayn liked to tell clients, “we get shit done.” And they did: they’d recently been reviewed in the Philadelphia Inquirer for a Garden and House that they’d recently completed in Center City. It was a house of floating concrete planes and glass walls that was explained as “an ascetic domesticity tempered only by nature”. Ever since then, they’d been getting at least two new client requests a week; they had to start picking and choosing which projects they wanted to do and reject the ones that they didn’t only because they didn’t have enough people.  
So after seven years, things were finally picking up for them. And it was amazing. One of the most stressful things Louis has ever done in his life, but amazing nonetheless.

 

It was around 2:30 in the afternoon when Leigh-Anne, their receptionist, knocked on the glass door to Louis’ office. When originally designing the firm, Louis, Zayn, and Liam agreed on having their own offices, but used glass instead of plaster walls to separate the rooms from the main floor. It was satisfying for Louis to look up and see everyone at work; the thought of ‘wow, they’re working for me’ still went through his head at least twice a day.  
“Lou, Dr. Horan is here.” Louis looked up from his computer screen.  
“Who?”  
“Dr. Horan.” The name rang no bells, and he just stared at Leigh-Anne. She was used to this, but that didn’t mean she was any less frustrated when Louis made her explain things. “You have your first meeting with him…”  
“I do?”  
“Yes; he’s been scheduled in for two weeks now.” It wasn’t that uncommon for Louis to forget that they had meetings with a new client; he was usually dealing with five things at once. At this current moment, he was writing an email to one the contractors for a residential house explaining a part of the blueprint that they didn’t understand. Those emails had to be worded very carefully, and he typically went over each sentence ten times to make sure he didn’t write anything that could be taken the wrong way.  
“Oh. Okay, give me a minute.” She sighed and walked over to Liam’s office. He looked back at his computer screen and completely forgot where his thought process was taking him on the sentence he was just writing. Honestly, Louis had trouble focusing on things when he had something else on his mind; he wasn’t sure when this started, but it’d been going on for years now. It could just be some random comment, and then he would be totally derailed. Louis was trying to think about who Dr. Horan was when his attention was brought up to Liam popping his head into the doorway,  
“You coming?” That email was clearly not going to be finished in the next hour.  
“Yeah.” He shut his laptop, grabbed his notebook and pen, and then joined Liam as they walked the five steps to the reception desk. Zayn was standing there, laughing with a blond man who was wearing the exact same outfit as him: blank pants, a white collared shirt, and the identical blue and black-stripped tie.  
“Tommy Hilfiger?” Zayn asked.  
“At sale for twenty-three bucks at Macy’s?” The blond man asked. His voice was extremely animated and lively, every word being spoken as if it was the greatest thing to ever come out of his mouth. He was the same height as Zayn, and his hair was quaffed upwards with a fair amount of product in it.  
“No way!” They high fived each other, and Liam nudged Louis in the waist with his elbow.  
“He’s replacing us.” Liam whispered. Louis rolled his eyes and walked up to the two that were laughing like they were long-lost frat brothers; he’d never seen Zayn act this comfortable and at ease with someone who had been a stranger not even a minute ago.  
“Hey!” Zayn smiled at Louis and clapped him on the back. “This is Louis.” The blond man held out his hand and Louis took a hold of it,  
“Nice to meet you. I’m Niall.” Louis remembered talking to a guy named Niall a while back. He vaguely recalled the conversation having to do with renovating a building.  
“We talked on the phone a few weeks ago, right?”  
“Yep. That was me.”  
“Nice to finally put a face to the name.”  
“I did not get the memo that we were matching today.” Liam approached Niall with a warm smile and held out his hand, “I’m Liam, Lead Production Architect.” Leave it to Liam to make sure that every single person in the World knew of his job title. Niall shook his hand,  
“Nice to meet you.”  
“I still can’t believe we’re wearing the same thing,” Zayn stated and Niall laughed again. His laugh was blaring and he used his whole body to let out the sound. Not that Louis was stereotyping or anything, but he would bet a large amount of money that Niall was a partier when he was younger. “Where do you shop? Maybe we’ve run into each other before and never knew it.”  
“Ehmm, it depends on what I need.”  
“Do you get nice shirts and stuff at Banana Republic?”  
“Yeah!”  
“Have you ever been to Sugarcube?”  
“Half of the shirts in my closet are from there.”  
“It’s like our own version of fate:” Louis interrupted. “you were clearly always meant to come to us.” Niall laughed wholeheartedly again, the sound making the rest of the three chuckle because it was so addictive.  
“How’d you find out about us?” Liam asked.  
“I saw the review of you guys in the Philadelphia Inquirer. Then I went to your website and asked my co-worker if he liked the stuff he saw. He didn’t actually look, but he said he liked how your name was Lego House, so I took it as a yes.”  
“I came up with the name!” Louis told him. So maybe he flaunted his accomplishments…but there was nothing wrong with being proud of the decisions he got right in his life; that list was pretty short anyway. It was reassuring to have something to show off.  
“Did you name it after the Ed Sheeran song?”  
“No.” Louis, Liam, and Zayn all said simultaneously. It was one of the most frequent questions they got. At first, it was annoying, but they were used to it by now. Some of their clients in the past actually found them by searching ‘Lego House’ on the Internet though, so Louis guessed they owed some of their success to the singer/songwriter who didn’t even know that they existed.  
“We decided on the name four years before his song came out.” Liam explained. “We’ve been around since 2007.”  
“Sorry, just wondering.”  
“No problem. You know, I feel like I’m looking at myself.” Louis rolled his eyes.  
“Zayn, unless you were the foster sibling – ”  
“No, it’s just now that I can see it on somebody else, it’s obvious that I put together a great outfit – ”  
“Alright, meeting room?” Liam cut in. Niall started laughing again and wow, it really was a contagious laugh.  
“Yeah, lets go.” Louis led the way through the office floor to the meeting room.  
“I like how coordinated all the colors are in here.” Niall commented.  
“Thanks,” Louis looked back to tell him. “I picked the colors out.” Louis chose the color scheme because it was warm and made the firm look bigger than it actually was: the walls were white with an orange trim, all the tables were white with black chairs, the pillars in the middle of the room were navy blue, and the writing on the wall that said ‘Lego House’ was painted in black. The sunlight coming in from the huge windows bounced off the white to make the firm look like it was glowing, and when it wasn’t that sunny, the hanging lights always did the trick. The hardwood floors creaked as they walked across the space.  
“I painted it all.” Zayn mentioned.  
“Really?”  
“Yeah; we didn’t have a lot of money when we started out, so I decided to paint it myself instead of having to pay for it.” When they entered the meeting room, Niall’s jaw dropped as he saw for the first time the mural that Zayn painted of the city landscape in different shades of orange. He was definitely astonished and impressed. Louis loved it when new clients saw the mural; it was something permanent to show them how amazing Zayn was at designing and drawing.  
“Welcome to Zayn’s masterpiece.” Liam announced. They took their seats around the long white table and Louis closed the door.

 

It was about halfway through the conversation that Louis was present for when things took a turn that he never would’ve seen coming in a million years. Niall was interested in renovating the top floor of a two-story office about forty-five minutes out of center city; the bottom was turned into a gym a few years ago, and he and his co-worker decided to start their own pediatric practice, so they bought the top floor.  
“What’s your schedule? Like, what sort of time frame do you see this being completed by?” Louis asked.  
“We wanted to open by June, so we were thinking about having this done around the last week of April.”  
“Wow. You know that only gives us a little bit more than three months?” Liam felt the need to clarify.  
“Yeah…do you think that’s possible?”  
“Wow.” Zayn said as he leaned back in his chair.  
“Quite honestly, no. We have a lot of projects going on right now and not a lot of people on our staff, and as much as we would love to help you get this done in three months, it’s just not possible for us at the moment.” Louis explained.  
“What about four months?”  
“That’s still pushing it…but a bit more realistic.”  
“I can pay you extra to get it done in four months.”  
“Niall, as great as that would be, we have other projects that –”  
“How much more?” Zayn cut Liam off.  
“As much as you need.” Liam looked at Louis with his brows furrowed, definitely confused by the offer. The room was silent for a few seconds before Zayn asked,  
“Don’t take this wrong way or anything, but are you loaded or something?”  
“Ehmm, not so much myself as my co-worker.”  
“Okay, well can I ask why you need this done so soon? Can you not wait until August or September to open?” Louis asked.  
“I mean we could, but we’ve already started recruiting people from CHOP and waiting around kind of feels like being a sitting duck in the middle of an open shooting field.”  
“Wait, you work at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia?” Liam asked. Niall nodded, “That’s one of the top children’s hospitals in the nation; why do you want to leave?”  
“It’s not so much that we want to leave; we’d just rather start our own practice.”  
“Don’t you have a non-compete clause in your contract?” Louis asked.  
“No, but we do have a non-solicitation clause so we can’t ask patients to move with us. We’ve already told some of them the news, though, and they’re going to follow us out, so we need to get out as soon as possible. Some of our co-workers are going to come with us too, and become part of the Styles-Horan staff.” Louis’ heart skipped a beat and his eyes shot up to Niall. He hadn’t heard that name spoken in years…Styles?  
“Styles-Horan?” He asked.  
“Yeah, we’re gonna call it Styles-Horan Pediatric Care.” Zayn chuckled,  
“Your partner’s name is Styles?”  
“His last name is, yeah. His first name is Harry.”  
No.  
No way.  
No fucking way.  
Louis froze like a glacier in his seat and his heart stopped beating for a full five seconds. His body felt like it was ejected from an airplane and he was in free fall with no parachute.  
It couldn’t be.  
There was no way on Earth it could be…  
“Harry Styles?” His voice shook out.  
“Yeah.”  
No.  
No no no no no no no. There was no way. There had to be a ton of ‘Harry Styles’ that lived in Philadelphia, and a few that worked at CHOP…right? The name was pretty common. But how many times in the past sixteen years had Louis ran into a guy named Harry?  
Zero. Exactly zero times.  
And that helped.  
This, though…this couldn’t be him. This couldn’t be his Harry. Not after all these years.  
Fuck, the room was getting really warm.  
“Where did you go to school?” Louis found himself frantically asking.  
“Penn.”  
“How old are you?”  
“Louis…” Liam murmured out, but Louis didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything but clearing this up right at this exact moment because if he didn’t…if he did…  
“Ummm…thirty-four.” Shit.  
“Harry…” Louis found himself on the verge of hyperventilating, his breaths coming out in short gasps, “did – did he go to school with you?”  
“Yeah…” Louis’ body went numb and he suddenly felt like the yellow fever was plaguing him. There was no fucking way.  
“Tall, brown hair, green eyes?”  
“Yeah, you know him?”  
Yes.  
It was him.  
It was Harry.  
It was his Harry.  
Holy shit.  
The room was spinning. The fucking room was fucking spinning and Louis was light-headed, and his eyes felt like they were burning and about to fall out from their sockets, and his stomach was coming up his throat…  
“Lou, are you okay?”  
Wait, that was his lunch was coming up his esophagus.  
“I – ” stomach acid tickled his tonsils as he clasped his right hand over his mouth, stood up, and ran out of the room as fast as possible. He didn’t even bother to look at anyone’s face as he charged through the labyrinth of desks, and to the bathroom were he promptly crashed into one of the stalls, bent down on his knees, and heaved up everything known to man into the toilet.  
He remembered.  
He remembered everything.  
Each and every single memory and detail that he had of Harry Styles smashed Louis’ whole body like a tidal wave. It threw him down and under and he couldn’t get up to the surface. Each one of those memories was flooding back. Every detail was like water rising all around his body. He was drowning in everything he spent the past sixteen years trying to forget about. There was no floatation device. Nothing to hold onto. He was shoved down into the dark abyss of the ocean. There was nothing else to do but think now about those six years of his life and it was too much.  
He could still feel everything.  
Every last feeling he had sixteen years ago came back and flooded his entire body like a tsunami wave.  
It was too much for a single person to handle all at once.  
It was a punch in the gut, the back, and the face all at once.  
And he couldn’t breathe.  
Well, he was hurling up every organ in his body, and that probably accounted for the whole not being able to breathe part.  
So here Louis Tomlinson was: totally paralyzed because how the fuck was this happening?  
He still remembered those six years like it all happened an hour ago.  
He heard the door open, and Liam’s voice say, “Oh shit.” The smell of vomit made Louis nauseous, and looking down at it floating in the toilet made him throw up again. The feel of wet clumps of liquid defying the laws of gravity as it slid up and out of his mouth like a snake was absolutely disgusting. He clutched onto the sides of the toilet and felt Liam’s hand rub up and down his back. “When’d you get sick?”  
‘When did I get sick?’ Louis thought, ‘When did I get sick? Sixteen fucking years ago, and I’ve been sick ever since.’ He couldn’t get any of that out, though, as his throat was preoccupied with the brown-grey fluid that it was discarding. Louis couldn’t remember the last time he threw up; it must’ve been years ago.  
“I’m gonna go tell them you have food poisoning. They can finish the meeting, and I’ll be right back. Okay?” Louis nodded before another batch of vomit came out. Liam’s hand left Louis’ back and he heard his footsteps walking away.  
Harry found him.  
Harry unknowingly found Louis.  
This had to be some sick twist of fate that after sixteen years…sixteen years of hoping, giving up hope, forgetting, remembering, forcing himself to forget, losing faith, regaining it just to lose it again, and never forgetting, just burying it all…here he was.  
Harry didn’t even know that he found Louis.  
Harry was here.  
Harry was back.  
Harry is back.  
Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry.  
How the fuck is he back?  
He couldn’t be back.  
Louis was dry heaving at this point, tears falling down his cheeks because everything was scorching like stars burning holes through the dark.  
This couldn’t be reality. Reality doesn’t work like this.  
Liam was back, running his hand in circles on Louis’ back while he used his other one to flush the toilet. The semi-decayed food spiraled around and around and around in a hypnotizing circle, and Louis’ head was bouncing back and forth as he struggled to stay steady. His entire being lost its strength as he fell ass first onto the floor, pulled his knees into his chest, and buried his face in his legs, completely lost in his sobs that shook his whole body; he was quaking with dismay, and despair, and disbelief, and desolate desperation. “Water?” He heard Liam ask. Louis tried to move his head up, but he physically wasn’t capable of it. “You need to drink, you’re going to be dehydrated.” If the loss of strength and stability was any indication, Louis was definitely already dehydrated. “Seriously, take a sip.” He felt a water bottle being placed in the space between his head and knees. Fucking Liam and his worrying. Louis took a small sip in between his hiccups only to please Liam. “You need to go home. I’m going to call a taxi.”  
So Liam sent Louis home to his apartment against his will.  
But his apartment was never his home.

 

When Louis awoke from his nap at 7:12 pm, he looked at his phone with a text from Liam saying, ‘eat crackers and drink water!’ and one from Zayn saying, ‘sorry bout the food poisoning…u need to stop eatin weird shit man. hope u feel bettr n Niall says hope u feel bettr too.’  
He didn’t respond to either text.  
Instead, he went straight to his kitchen, grabbed a bottle of vodka, some ice cream, sat down on his couch, and watched Lady and the Tramp. This was how he stopped remembering before, and this was certainly how he was going to stop remembering now.  
Truth be told, Louis used to picture the day that he and Harry found each other again. But he was in his early-twenties then. When the five-year High School reunion came along and Harry wasn’t there, Louis focused on forgetting instead. And it kind of worked…until four years later when he, Zayn, and Liam bought the office space he found in Philadelphia. They were looking to start their own firm, and while Liam and Zayn searched for places in New York, Louis went straight to Pennsylvania. Maybe there was always a hidden ulterior motive, but at the time, the space he found in Philadelphia was the cheapest, nicest, and in an area that was always in the need for an architecture firm. It made the most sense, and Zayn and Liam agreed. For the first year, Louis dreamt about randomly running into Harry on the street; but after about twenty bicyclists ran him over, Louis once again lost hope. He completely immersed himself in work, and nothing but it. When he turned thirty, he physically hated being in his apartment. Usually, he stayed at the firm until 8:45 at night to work on the 3D models or fix blueprints. He despised being alone with nothing to distract his mind, because that was when he’d dwell on all of his mistakes; he chose to occupy his mind with the firm instead. On his way back to the apartment, he’d get take out, go home, drink a cup of tea, fall asleep, wake up at 6 the next morning, run on the treadmill for an hour, take a shower, have a bowl of cereal, make coffee, and then go to work. That’s just how things worked. Sometimes, he was fucking miserable. No, it was more than sometimes; it was everyday. He had everything and nothing he wanted. He had everything and nothing he was proud of. He couldn’t remember the last time he was genuinely happy with his life and with himself. And it was so fucking frustrating, because why wasn’t he happy? He should be satisfied with his life, but he just wasn’t.  
The simple truth was that as hard as he tried, Louis never forgot.  
He never actually forgot any of it, and when his mind drifted to Harry time after time, it just reinforced how much of a fuck up he was, and how huge of an open wound there still was after sixteen years. So Louis drank to temporarily forget how much he hated himself for screwing things up, for not trying to fix anything, and to try to let go of the piece of himself that left when Harry did. He’d never been able to retrieve that piece, even after sixteen years. Louis had been drinking to forget who he was and how unhappy he was for years now, so why should this night be any different? It was just better to make the thoughts shut up than deal with the disgrace and guilt.  
And if he bawled his eyes out while watching that damn spaghetti scene because he thought about the night when he first kissed Harry, well no one had to fucking know.  
He quietly faded into sleep that night with nothing on his mind.

 

Louis didn’t stick to his schedule the next morning. He woke up at 7:30 with the sun blaring holes into his eyes, and wasn’t in the mood to get up. His head felt like a cinderblock when he lifted it; vodka could help him forget things in the night, but in the morning, he was burdened with the weight living…and he wasn’t about to deal with that. He thought about taking the day off, but his mind convinced himself that it would be better for him to hide in his work so he’d at least be doing something productive. So he made a shitty cup of coffee, took two ibuprofen pills, put on the first shirt and pair of pants he saw, and made his way to the firm where he tried to sneak his way into his own office without being noticed. Much to Louis’ dismay, when he tried pacing his way past of Zayn’s office, Liam and Zayn noticed.  
“Lou!” Zayn shouted. He could deal with the noises of the city, the cars and trucks passing by, the mounds of people pushing their way through each other, the sirens of police cars or fire trucks or ambulances, and the shouts of street vendors; when it came to the interrogative tones of his best friends, though…well, he couldn’t deal with that. “Where’re you going?” He stopped walking and looked into Zayn’s office. He and Liam were staring at him.  
“My office?” Louis meekly asked and damn it, why was he asking?  
“No you’re not.” Liam said as he patted the seat beside him, “Your seat is calling you.” He knew he shouldn’t have listened to his mind because now he was going to be forced into talking about yesterday.  
Fuck.  
“I would but I have a ton of stuff I need to – ”  
“Bullshit.” Zayn cut him off in his tracks. “Come sit down and talk.” There was no way Louis was going to win this argument, so he dragged his body into the office and sat down on his chair. Zayn puffed out a breath of smoke, “You look like shit.” Louis knew he looked horrible. He didn’t bother to brush his teeth or hair when he woke up, and he wore an orange collared shirt and a pink tie that had palm trees on it; in his defense, it was the first thing his hand grasped out of his closet, and he couldn’t identify the colors with his eyes squinting.  
“That’s convenient cause I feel like shit too.” Zayn rolled his eyes.  
“Your tie is on upside down.” Liam told him. Louis didn’t care.  
“Fantastic.”  
“What’d you eat yesterday?”  
“Misery.” He answered flatly. This made Zayn chuckle, but Liam was still looking at him with questioning eyes.  
“That’s one hell of a meal.” Zayn commented. Louis could always count on Zayn to understand his sense of humor, no matter how unfortunate it was.  
“Seriously, Lou, you got really sick out of nowhere…are you okay?” Liam inquired; he was always concerned about everything and took situations to be fifty times worse than they actually were. Knowing Liam, he probably believed Louis had some form of a viral infection, when in actuality it was an overload of thoughts and emotions. Louis rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of his migraine and make the Harry memories that were peeping out of their cave again go back in.  
“I dunno…how’d the rest of the meeting go with Niall?”  
“Actually, I wanted to ask you about that,” Zayn took another drag, “if we got the renovation done in four months, he offered to pay us an additional thirty-thousand dollars on top of what we’d charge them now.” Louis knew this amount of money was from Harry. There was no way it wasn’t, and it didn’t feel right.  
“I don’t…doesn’t that feel like being a prostitute or something?”  
“Think of it as…a sponsor or something giving us money. We’re not stripping.” It certainly felt like parts of Louis’ mind were being stripped down and dismantled into shattered pieces.  
“We need the money.” Liam added in. “I mean, this would be our largest profit margin from a project that we’ve ever taken on…it feels weird, but they want to pay us; it wouldn’t make sense not to take the offer.”  
“Yeah, but we have nine other projects going on right now. It’s gonna be too much.”  
“Maybe we could hire someone new.” Zayn suggested.  
“We don’t have the money for that.”  
“Not if we don’t take up this offer.”  
“Think about it, if we get into the medical side of things, do you realize how many companies will want to hire us? We could finally start getting into commercial buildings instead of residential buildings. Do you understand how much more we’d make?” Liam asked. Louis sighed, slumped down in the chair, leaned his head back, and stared at the white ceiling. It was blank, unlike his mind. He really wished his mind were a white-blank page without any ink already imprinted onto it. Maybe then he could live his life like a normal person. This was way too much to take in under twenty-four hours. It was like someone handed him an ultimatum saying ‘you can progress your future by taking your company to the next level and possibly – ’ and that’s when Louis shut up the voice giving him that ultimatum.  
“Why are you so against this?” He could smell the smoke from Zayn’s breath being directed towards him.  
“I’m not…I just…it’s complicated?”  
“How could it be that complicated? It’d help the company, Niall seems like an awesome guy and he wore the same outfit as me so we know that he’s sane…”  
“Yeah…”  
“Can I ask a question?” It didn’t matter if Zayn or Louis gave Liam permission; he was going to ask the question anyway. And Louis knew exactly what it was going to be: “What’s up with his partner…did you know him or something?” Louis thought he was sighing, but it came out as,  
“Mmghhrrrr…” gargling from the bottom of his throat.  
Somebody shoot him.  
Somebody shoot him now, please.  
“So yes.” Liam clarified. And Louis was on the verge of cracking as he brought his head up, looked Liam right in the eyes, and almost yelled,  
“Yes, Liam. I fucking knew him.” He felt bad as soon as he said it, but he was so fucking frustrated with everything at the moment.  
“Alright, no need to go on verbal attack mode.” Liam said and Louis could’ve sworn he saw him put up an invisible shield.  
“How’d you know him?” Zayn asked with curious eyes.  
“Elementary, Middle, and High School.” He simply stated.  
“Did you two not get along?”  
And there couldn’t be a less accurate way to describe his relationship with Harry than that. So he chuckled because after all these years, he never even mentioned Harry to either Zayn or Liam because…well it was too much to tell and too much to think about and too much in general. And as much as Louis could’ve figured it out, it was never completely figured out.  
“No…he was… he was my best friend…”  
“Oh.” The three of them stayed quiet for a minute or so while Zayn huffed and puffed, Liam sipped his coffee, and Louis just sat there fiddling with his fingers, all of them thinking about the current situation. And the current situation was a lot to take in.  
“Wait…why is that complicated?” Zayn finally asked.  
And that was the question, wasn’t it?  
Why was everything so complicated?  
Because quite honestly, it shouldn’t be.  
Nothing about his relationship with Harry should’ve been complicated. It was always just Harry and Louis, but clearly the World had other plans for them to turn things into shit.  
So why was everything so complicated?  
“Because everything sucks and it all falls to shit in the end, that’s why.” Honestly, that was the best way he could explain it. Apparently Liam didn’t think so, as his brows furrowed, and Zayn chuckled. “What? This isn’t funny.”  
“You may not think so, but you always think too much about things, which is probably why you think that it’s all shit.”  
“Zayn, you don’t get it.”  
“Then help me understand.”  
“When I begin to understand, I’ll be the first to let you know.” Zayn rolled his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.  
“This is exactly what I’m talking about – ”  
“Alright, I need to ask another question.” Liam interrupted. “We need to do this project, yes?”  
“Yep.” Zayn answered right away.  
“Lou?” He stopped thinking about himself and started thinking about the business. It would help them grow substantially, and it made sense. They needed it.  
“Yes.” He sighed out.  
“Okay. It’s settled: we’re doing it.” Louis’ eyes shot up as his stomach sunk down.  
“What? That wasn’t what I agreed with.”  
“Yeah, but you agreed that we needed to do it.”  
“That’s completely different than actually doing it!”  
“Do you want to expand the company, help out your co workers, help thousands of sick kids that will be using this practice, and make more money in the process? Hasn’t this all been the goal from the beginning?” Louis’ chest was burning again. Maybe he had heartburn because this was the second time in the past day that this happened. The amount of pressure that was on him to make the right decision for himself and for the people he cared about was outrageous, and there was only one correct decision.  
“Fine! We’ll do it!” Louis yelled. Liam relaxed back in his seat, smirking with his face of ‘that’s what I thought’ as he said,  
“Alright. We’re officially taking on this project.” Louis decided to get up then and go to his own office like he’d originally planned because this was an undesired distraction. As Louis was walking out of the doorway, Zayn decided to speak before he finished his first cigarette of the day.  
“Hey, Lou,” His voice was soft, and Louis could tell he was about to be given some Zayn-advice. Louis exasperatedly turned around and looked at him, feeling like shit and just wanting to go back to his apartment to drink and sleep some more. It seemed like Zayn noticed this, and he gave Louis an empathetic closed mouthed smile before saying, “I know you said that it was the end…but maybe it wasn’t. It’s possible that this was supposed to happen or something…like how often do we have a client wearing the exact same thing as me? That never happens. Ever. Maybe you can pick things up with, umm…shit…Harry? Yeah, Harry. If you want.”  
And now it was official:  
After sixteen years, his path was about to collide with Harry’s again.  
It was everything he wanted.  
It was everything he didn’t want.  
It was everything.  
And Louis was fucking terrified.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!!!  
> So quick note: I'm going to try and update this once a week now. That's not nearly as often as I wanted it to be, but I have schoolwork so I have to put some of my attention to that.  
> Anyway, thank you all for reading!!! I love you guys so much, you have no idea. I hope you like this update, and feedback is very much appreciated!!! Thanks again!!! :)

Things went on as they always had for the next week. Except for the little voice that wasn’t actually that little in the back of Louis’ head that kept repeating “Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry”. Louis would shut it up by emerging himself in work, and it was a sufficient way to district his mind when he couldn’t be at home getting drunk. Then Liam told him that Niall was coming back to the firm the next Wednesday to discuss an initial design that Zayn was in the process of putting together, “Oh, and he said that Harry might be coming this time.”  
Ever since then, Louis was slowly driving himself insane.  
He couldn’t focus on his work. He would literally sit at his desk and find himself recalling one of his Harry memories, reliving the entire moment, until he realized what was going on and snapped himself out of it. Even when he was talking to Liam and Zayn each morning, he couldn’t focus. His eyes would lock onto the wall, and he’d find himself back at Harry’s house. When he looked at the ‘Lego House’ painted on the wall, the only letter he saw was ‘H’. He avoided getting Chinese takeout food for dinner the entire week. When Zayn yelled, “Trust fall!” and fell back into Louis’ arms, Louis didn’t catch him and they both dropped to the ground because the only thing Louis could hear in his mind was, “I think I’m falling for you”. There was a silent agreement between everyone in the firm to not ask Louis about Harry, because whenever someone brought him up, Louis would give them a cold shoulder for the rest of the day and lock himself in his office. Zayn asked him later on in the week if he wanted to talk, and Louis responded with “I’m not drunk enough yet”.  
So that’s how they ended up drinking beer and smoking weed at Zayn’s apartment that Saturday night. Liam would’ve been there, but he was on his date with Gammy’s girl. They were sitting on the couch, sharing a joint, and only half paying attention to reruns of The Office.  
“You drunk enough yet?” Louis’ mind was whirling; his brain felt like it was full of air. He moved his head around in circles and laughed because it felt like he had absolutely no control over it. It was a floppy limb and he didn’t know that it existed. “You’re definitely bent.”  
“Nahhh.” He held out his hand and motioned with numb fingers for Zayn to give him the joint. Zayn shook his head and Louis pouted, “pourqui?”  
“Cause if you don’t tell me why you’re so freaked outtabout Harry now, you’re never gonna tell me.” For some reason, the way Zayn slurred his words together made Louis crack up, and he was bent over in laughter. He really couldn’t feel anything; it was like the body he was in wasn’t his own. His body and mind didn’t match up. It was a shame, really, because he felt this way even when he wasn’t bent. Sometimes, he’d look in the mirror and couldn’t immediately recognize himself. Occasionally, he stared at a stranger in the mirror. Other times, he’d see his reflection, but he never looked like he was himself. Either way, right now his body felt like it was in a smoothie. Zayn had a fantastic dealer. “What?”  
“You’re funny Misssster DeeJaay Malik.” Zayn rolled his dilated eyes and took a hit. “Hey!”  
“Talk and I’ll giveyouit.”  
“Thasabuse of drugs.”  
“Not if they’re mine.” Louis sighed out and vibrated his lips together.  
“What d’you wannano?”  
“Anythin, really. Who was he?”  
“A friend.”  
“For how long?”  
“Six years.”  
“Well…I had friends in High School for years and lost touch withem, and if I was gonna seeem now, I wouldn’t be freakin out like you are.”  
“M’not freakin out.”  
“Mhmm.”  
“No m’not.”  
“Liar.” Louis reached his hand out again  
“I told you stuff, now gimme the joint.” Zayn leaned away from him.  
“I just don’t understand why y’haven’t ever talked boutem b’fore. And he clearly meant somethin to you since you’re actin this way.”  
“Actin like what?”  
“Like…” Zayn waved a slack hand up and down, “this.”  
“You’re full o’shit, Malik.”  
“You’ve never acted this way bout anyone else b‘fore.”  
“Well...this s’different.”  
“How?”  
“Just is. Joint.” This time, Louis leaned forward and tried grasping Zayn’s arm. He aimed two times before he finally wrapped his fingers around Zayn’s bicep. Unfortunately for Louis, Zayn had the chiseled muscles of Superman that were barely ever seen outside of comic books, and when Louis was drunk, his strength turned into that of a worm. Zayn easily pushed him off.  
“No! You talk, then y’get the joint.” Louis pouted.  
“Sharing is caring.”  
“So if you share, I’ll share. Reciprocate the caring.”  
“This s’extortion.”  
“S’a compromise.” Zayn swiftly raised the joint up to his lips and deeply inhaled, clearly trying to persuade Louis into talking. Louis folded his arms over his chest.  
“You’re bein an asshole.”  
“You’re bein as stubborn asan asshole.”  
“Cause I don’t wanna talk bout it!”  
“Fine. No more joint for you.”  
“Dammit, Zayn! The whole point of doing this is to forget, not talk boutit!”  
“Why d’you wanna forget?”  
“Because I fucked up!” Louis yelled out. The room fell silent, with the exception of the characters on the flat screen talking. His attention went down to the joint in Zayn’s fingers that was leaving a trail of smoke floating up into the air. As much as Louis didn’t want to talk about Harry, he was physically incapable of putting up a fight while in this state of mind. Zayn was quiet and looked at him with expectant eyes, waiting for Louis to talk again. Louis figured that the sooner he got this conversation over with, the quicker he could forget it ever happened. “Have y’ever not told someone somethin?” Louis feebly asked.  
“Everyone has.”  
“Well…I didn’t tell Harry somethin…actually, I didn’t tellem lots of things. And I didn’t stopem.”  
“Stopem from what?”  
“Leavin’ my life.” Zayn sat silent for a moment, his eyebrows creasing as he pondered this newfound information.  
“What didn’tchu tellem?”  
“Can’t tell you.”  
“Why?”  
“Cause…I just…can’t.”  
“Fine. But if he was your best friend, how come you never mentioned anythin boutem b‘fore?”  
“Cause it’s easier to pretend I forgot.”  
“Easier than what?”  
“Learnin to live with all the stupid shit I’ve done.”  
“What’d you do?”  
“Stuff.”  
“Lou.” Zayn tilted his head to the side and pressed his lips together, obviously unsatisfied with the answer Louis had supplied him. Louis’ gaze fell to the ground and he began to fiddle his thumbs together.  
“I could never be what he needed me to be.” He quietly admitted. This was the underlining truth, wasn’t it? That after everything that happened between them, the one painful thing that actually kept them apart was Louis himself. His mind stopped floating, and it was beginning to come crashing down on him again; he really needed that joint.  
“Well, maybe now you can.”  
“Don’t get my hopes up, Zayny Bobaney.” Louis’ giggled at the feeling of the word coming out of his mouth, “Bobaney…Bobaney…Bow-bane-ee…” He suddenly had the urge to hide and never come out. Maybe he could use up all of his life’s savings and go to a deserted island and live there for the rest of his life. But he wasn’t one with nature, so that wouldn’t work out too well. Maybe he could go to Switzerland instead. Nobody would be able to find him in Switzerland. He could start a new life. Louis sighed with his full body and sunk down on the couch until he slid off and his ass thumped onto the floor. “Owwww; Bobaney, it hurts.”  
“You fell onto the floor.”  
“Not my ass…my life. My life hurts.” Louis brought his legs into his chest and let his head fall onto his knees, “My life hurts…my life hurts.” He found himself barely whispering out the confession. Louis had never told anyone this before. It was a thought that crossed his mind several times a week, but he never spoke it. He felt it, though; the constant sensation that he never knew what exactly he was doing. Louis wasn’t sure what the end goal was, or why he go home to his apartment and feel so utterly alone and disappointed. He, Zayn, and Liam were living their dream, so why did Louis always feel like he needed something else? Why did he contemplate leaving his life and starting a new one?  
“How?”  
“Cause it sucks.”  
“No it doesn’t.”  
“Yes it does, Bobaney. Somewhere along the way, I fucked thinsup soooo badly.”  
“Can’t be that bad.”  
“Ya’huh. Cause now, there’s always a pain in my chest and it hasn’t gone away for sixteen years…and I haven’t seenem in sixteen years…I haven’t seen Harry…Harry…dammit.” He had no idea where his train of thought was going, so words stopped coming out of his mouth as he stared at the TV screen with his mind now blank. At some point while this was happening, Zayn sunk down to the floor and was now sitting next to him. He patted Louis’ knee. Louis looked at Zayn, and for some reason, Zayn had on his pity face. Louis didn’t know why, and he really hated it, but then Zayn handed him the joint and he didn’t care anymore. Louis brought it right up to his mouth, inhaled as deep as he could, and held the smoke in his throat for a few seconds. Then he decided it would be a fun idea to try and swallow the smoke, so he did, but he ended up coughing a bit afterwards.  
“He wasn’t just a friend, was he?” He met Zayn’s eyes again, his own a bit teary from coughing. Harry was so much more than just a friend: Harry was everything. He shook his head side to side. “Freshman year…was Greg really the first guy you’d ever kissed?”  
“Shhhhhh, I lied. ” Louis began laughing hysterically, because the whole situation couldn’t be more fucked up. It was pretty damn impressive that this was his life. Tears started coming out of his eyes from laughing so hard…or maybe he wasn’t laughing at all. He felt Zayn pat him on the back twice.  
“This could be a second chance.” Louis wiped his eyes rid of tears.  
“No such thing.”  
“Well…maybe the endin you two had wasn’t really the end.”  
“Zayn – ”  
“Were you happy with him?” Louis only had to briefly think back on it and,  
“Happiest I’ve ever been.” was his only response.  
“So maybe – ”  
“I’m too tired to talk about this anymore…can we just watch?” Zayn patted Louis’ knee again and slightly nodded his head,  
“Sure.” Zayn didn’t ask for the joint back, so it was perpetually hovering around Louis’ mouth for the rest of the night. Louis tried to focus on the florescent pixels coming out of the flat screen, but it was surprisingly blurry and his eyes never fully adjusted. After a while, Zayn decided to break the conversation happening on the TV and say, “Y’know you can talk to me bout this whenever, right?” Louis focused on feeling the blood pump through his toes. Sometimes, he hated his pulse; it thought that Louis was still alive when he didn’t feel like he had an ounce of life left in him. This was one of those moments.  
“Mhmm.”  
“Good.”  
Three hits later, his eyes weren’t working right and his mind said, “I’m tired” so Louis stumbled into the guest bedroom and went to sleep without any interruptions.

 

It didn’t help that the when he woke up on Sunday morning, it was February 2nd. Which just reminded him that yesterday was, in fact, February 1st. He was in Zayn’s icebox of a guest bedroom, his body freezing under the covers, when he opened his eyes to a completely unused side of the bed. Granted, this was definitely better than three years ago when he woke up with a sore ass to a naked guy who Louis couldn’t remember the name of on the other side of his own bed. But in another way, it was so much worse because it reinforced how damn alone Louis felt.  
In the past sixteen years, Louis had a total of one girlfriend, six boyfriends, and eight one-night stands when he was feeling really shitty. The longest relationship he had didn’t even technically count as one and was with his roommate, Greg, his freshman and sophomore years of college. They got really drunk one night freshman year and ended up sucking each other’s faces until neither could breathe. After that night, they decided it would be okay to fool around with each other just to let off some steam. Louis even had a girlfriend, Hannah, during this time period. He lost his virginity to the girl with blond hair and a pretty face after knowing her for three weeks. A month later, he lost his anal virginity to Greg while still dating Hannah. Louis was experimenting at that point and still trying to figure things out, so the only people who knew about his predicament were Liam and Zayn; they lived down the hall from him, and Louis spent more time in their room than he did in his and Greg’s.  
But it was February 2nd, and Harry turned thirty-four yesterday. Fuck, they were old. Louis closed his eyes again and remembered how it felt to be seventeen, waking up with Harry’s arm clasped around his waist and his knee poking into Louis’ thigh. It didn’t matter how painful the position was for Louis, because Harry was comfortable and as long as he was there, Louis felt secure. Nothing really mattered except for the fact that he was with Harry.  
Of course, Louis never realized that until the first morning he woke up with his body draped over Hannah’s, and nothing was nearly as lined up as it had been with Harry. Then he woke up next to Greg, and he was more satisfied than he’d been with Hannah, but less comfortable than he’d been with Harry. And this trend continued on, and on, and on, until he finally realized he’d been comparing every one of his new partners to his experience with Harry. Nothing ever matched up to Harry. Louis had come close to it twice, but something told him both times, “He’s not the one; don’t stop searching”. So Louis kept looking, but the light he was exploring with was never bright enough. He felt like a ship at sea without a harbor light to guide him back home at night.  
Louis abruptly opened his eyes to the same scene, but a different thought: he might see Harry again in three days.  
Holy shit.  
Three days.  
Three fucking days.  
Maybe.  
And here it was again, the ‘if’.  
Louis had enough of ‘ifs’ in his life. He’s thirty-four, and he should’ve now earned the privilege to know what was going to happen in his life. It shouldn’t be a guessing game anymore. That was what his twenties were for.  
Yet here he was, trying to guess what could happen. It could be one of the most important things in his life. This could be it. This could be what he’d been waiting for. Harry could finally be back in his life. He spent sixteen years waiting for this, and fuck, was he ready? What if he wasn’t ready?  
What if…?  
What if Harry didn’t remember him? What if Harry didn’t want to remember him? What if Harry hated him? What if Harry didn’t recognize him? What if he didn’t recognize Harry? What if Harry didn’t want him back in his life? What if Harry didn’t still feel the same way about him? What if Harry did still feel the same way about him?  
What the fuck was going to happen when they met again? 

 

After he used most of his strength to shut up his mind and get out of bed, he walked into Zayn’s kitchen with a jackhammer in his head and a lump of smog lying in his lungs. Zayn was sitting on his couch, watching the morning news, and eating a bowl of cereal when he turned his head around to see Louis walk to the kitchen counter. Louis’ left hand was grasping his head in attempt to make the throbbing stop because wow, he really felt like shit.  
“I put two Advil out on the counter for you.” Louis looked at the marbled counter top, and right in front of him was a mug of steaming black coffee and two pills.  
“Advil and coffee?”  
“Yup.” Zayn answered while chewing with a full mouth. Louis dove for the coffee; it didn’t matter that it burnt the roof of his mouth. He really needed something, and this felt like Heaven.  
“You, my good Sir, are a gentleman and a scholar.” Louis swallowed the two pills with ease.  
“Yup. Help yourself to cereal. Milk’s in the fridge.” Louis wasn’t hungry, and he felt like eating something would probably make him throw up the pot clump that was stationed in his lungs.  
“Maybe later.” Louis padded his way into the living room and sat next to Zayn on the couch. He was watching the morning news, and Louis couldn’t be any less interested. He hated watching the news; it was always something about a murder, a house fire, extreme weather, a puppy, or an advertisement. Louis got sick of watching it years ago, and opted for reading the Philadelphia Daily News instead. Yes, it contained the same topics in it, but there were also movie and theater reviews, usually an interesting interview, and it had more variety. When he didn’t feel like reading, there was also the bonus of comics and crossword puzzles. But Zayn liked to watch the news, so Louis sat there listening to the piercing voice of a woman reporter he didn’t know the name of. She looked as though she had multiple face-lifts; it wasn’t working out in her favor.  
“I talked to Liam this morning.” Zayn said before shoveling another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.  
“Mmm, how was his date?”  
“Good. Said she was hot.”  
“Does she have a name?” Louis asked before taking a sip of coffee.  
“Danielle.”  
“Did they…”  
“No. He walked her back to her apartment then went home.”  
“To masturbate?”  
“Probably.” They both chuckled and Louis took another sip of his coffee. He couldn’t imagine living without it. The first civilization to make coffee must’ve been full of geniuses. “He asked how our night was…” Louis’ stomach sunk; it wasn’t like he forgot what he told Zayn. Drinking and smoking only temporarily hid his memory. He knew exactly what Zayn told Liam.  
“So you let him know about Harry.” It wasn’t a question.  
“Yeah.” Zayn responded hesitantly. Well, now he had to put on a smile and make the best of this shitty situation.  
“Great. Now we’re all in on the secret and we don’t have to mention it again, yes?”  
“That’s not exactly how life works.”  
“But that’s how my life works. And it’s worked this way for years now, so I don’t see why there should be any problem with it.” Zayn filled up his mouth with another round of cereal before saying,  
“You clearly have a problem with it, though, if you refuse to talk about it.”  
“I don’t refuse, I just don’t want to – ”  
“Oh my God, Louis, could you stop being a miserable bastard for two seconds?” Louis was about to interrupt as Zayn swallowed his food, but he couldn’t figure out what to retort with before Zayn continued to talk. “I get that you’re stubborn and stick to your beliefs; it’s great. But when it starts messing with your life and how you see things, you have to realize that something is wrong. Do you understand that?” Zayn was talking complete shit right now. His views and stubbornness didn’t mess up his life…did they? No, they didn’t. They couldn’t. The very idea of that was just stupid. And it was way too early to be thinking about this. Louis brushed the comment aside and tried not to take any of what Zayn had just said to heart. He knew Zayn didn’t mean for it to come off as an insult, but that still didn’t stop the sting in his ribcage.  
“Sure.” He took another sip of his coffee while Zayn rolled his eyes. Their conversation paused as Zayn focused his eyes back onto the news. Okay, so maybe Louis wasn’t exactly in the best mood right now. Maybe he was being a miserable bastard. Maybe he should be grateful that Zayn put up with him. But he felt like shit, his life felt like shit, and yesterday was Harry’s birthday. “Yesterday was Harry’s birthday.” He found himself blurting out. This caught Zayn’s attention as he stopped chewing and looked at Louis with empathetic eyes.  
“I…um,” Zayn swallowed the cereal in his mouth, “I didn’t know.” Louis shrugged and looked down into his mug.  
“No way you could’ve known.”  
“Sorry for calling you a miserable bastard.” Louis swirled the coffee around in a spiral.  
“Sorry for being one.”  
“You’re not, though…you’re just…you.” Louis chuckled.  
“Sorry for being me.”  
“That’s not what I meant.”  
“I know.”  
“I mean, like – ”  
“Don’t worry about it, okay?” He looked back up at Zayn. Zayn pressed his lips together and moved his jaw side to side.  
“I’m a bit worried about you, though.”  
“Thanks for the concern, but it’s okay for now. I have coffee.” He feigned a smile, held up his mug, and clinked it to Zayn’s cereal bowl before taking another sip.  
“You sure?”  
“I’m not sure of anything.”

 

Louis stayed at Zayn’s house the entire day. He debated sleeping over again, but his own bed was calling his name. So he got home at 8:00 in the night, and did what any sane person who didn’t know what to do with themselves would do: go on the treadmill and run three miles. Louis wasn’t nearly as athletic as he’d been since his soccer days at Syracuse. That didn’t mean he disliked any physical activity, though. It also didn’t mean that he liked it. Now, it was just something he did to try and feel better about himself and used as a form of getting out his stress. And when the weight of the World was still present on Louis’ shoulders afterwards, his nightly tea was for relaxation.  
Fuck. When did they get so old? 

 

When Louis walked into Zayn’s office the next Monday morning, Liam was already there. It wasn’t like Louis was running late this morning, so he was a bit surprised to see Liam peacefully sitting in his chair.  
“Mornin’.” Zayn greeted him while huffing out a breath of smoke. It looked like the cigarette was almost finished, so he must’ve been at the firm for a while. Liam turned his head around and smiled at Louis.  
“Good morning!” Louis chuckled and sat down in his chair.  
“Liam, you are the most chipper chipmunk I’ve ever met in my entire life.”  
“I’m definitely not a chipmunk.”  
“You’re not?”  
“Not to my knowledge.”  
“Sometimes I see you, and I can’t help but see Simon from Alvin and the Chipmunks.”  
“I’m not Simon!”  
“Liam’s right,” Zayn said, “he’s definitely more of a Theodore.”  
“Oh yes, I can absolutely see that.”  
“I’m not a chipmunk! I’m a human being!”  
“Okay human being Liam, chill out. How was your human being date?” Louis asked. Immediately after, he took a sip of his coffee to let Liam know he was done with the snarky comments for the moment being. Liam looked a bit skeptical at first, but Zayn nodded him on.  
“It was good…actually, really good. She’s really sweet – ”  
“Sweet as in gummy worm sweet or sweet as in a gummy worm coated in sugar sweet…?” Louis felt the need to ask. Liam rolled his eyes.  
“Sweet as in cotton candy.”  
“You’re playing along?” Zayn asked in disbelief.  
“Do I have a choice?”  
“No.” Louis answered for him. Liam pointed to Louis,  
“This is why. Anyway, we went out to dinner and I could actually hold a conversation with her; it wasn’t one-sided. And there was never a stall when we were talking. There was always something else to talk about. Oh, and she has a great sense of humor. I told her about the time that the moth flew around my apartment and she thought it was funny – ”  
“Because a moth outwitted you for an hour?” Zayn added in.  
“Yeah, I don’t think you get why she was laughing.”  
“No, she was laughing because…oh fuck you guys, she found it funny. But, that’s not the point. She’s twenty-nine, and she’s a dental assistant – ”  
“Was she looking at your teeth the whole time?”  
“No, Louis. That would be weird.”  
“I bet that she judges people based on their teeth, though. She would hate you, Zayn.” Zayn shrugged and pushed the bud of his cigarette into the ashtray.  
“You win some, you lose some.”  
“I hope you’re winning some, Li.” Louis winked at Liam; Liam rolled his eyes.  
“This girl is different – ”  
“Oh, different!” Zayn said in a high-pitched voice.  
“Different!” Louis followed along in Zayn’s footsteps.  
“She’s different, I tell you! Different!”  
“I love different! And she’s different!”  
“I love her!”  
“Shut up, my God!” Liam spoke up. Louis and Zayn laughed with each other. “We took a picture together on my phone.”  
“Oh! A picture!” Zayn continued.  
“Picture! A different picture with a different girl!”  
“Do you two want to see or not?”  
“Alright,” Zayn’s voice went back to its normal pitch, “let’s see then.” He requested. Liam looked like a giddy schoolgirl as he pulled his phone out of his pant’s pocket.  
“I’m using it as her contact picture…” Liam said while scrolling through his phone.  
“No way. You didn’t use that line, did you?” Liam looked up at Louis,  
“What line?”  
“The, ‘we should take a picture together so I can set it as your contact’ line.” Liam’s cheeks flushed pink as he looked back down to his phone, “You did! Wow…y’know what? I’m impressed that it worked. Maybe you two deserve each other.” Liam held up his phone in Zayn’s direction first and Zayn leaned forward.  
“You weren’t kidding: she is hot.”  
“Why would I be kidding?” Liam looked like a confused little kid trapped in the body of a large, buff man. It was like the movie Big, except Liam was Tom Hanks who was really the little kid who’s body grew up over night into Tom Hanks.  
“It’s a phrase.”  
“Oh.” Zayn reclined back in his chair. Liam turned and showed the picture to Louis. It was Liam with his arm around a girl with wavy brown hair, an oval face, chocolate eyes, very fine eyebrows, and a wide smile in the dimly lit restaurant. Liam was bashfully smiling next to her and the tops of his cheeks reaching the bottom of his eyelids. They actually looked really good together.  
“Dawwww, Liam, you look so coy.” He looked up to see Liam smiling just as he had in the picture. “I’m assuming there’s a second date in the works?” Liam locked his phone and put it back in his pocket.  
“Yeah. We’re going out again this Friday night.”  
“Good for you, man.”  
“I’m glad she’s not a psycho.” Zayn told him.  
“Yeah, me too.”  
“Wait, did you kiss her or not?” Louis asked.  
“No…I didn’t want to rush things.”  
“Liam Payne: master of chivalry.” Liam chuckled,  
“That’s how it appears to be. So how was your Saturday night?” And really, Louis should’ve known this was coming. Liam was definitely going to want to talk about the information Zayn obtained from Louis, and in a way, it kind of pissed Louis off. Those two clearly didn’t understand the concept of ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ and subtlety wasn’t Liam’s strong suit. Louis wasn’t in the mood for waltzing around the bush.  
“I know that you know.” Zayn’s eyes widened at the comment and Liam’s eyebrows furrowed.  
“What?”  
“I know that Zayn told you what I told him…when I was bent, I should add.” Liam’s mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but nothing came out. Zayn sat in his seat with his eyes darting back and forth between the two. As the silence continued, the tension in the room increased. Liam met Zayn’s eyes and the two looked like they were having a silent conversation. It felt like Liam and Zayn had something they wanted to say, but wouldn’t say it. It was aggravating Louis not knowing what was going on, “Spit it out already.”  
“Well…we were wondering…” Liam turned his gaze from Zayn’s face to Louis’, “you kept this a secret for sixteen years…” He paused and the room fell silent again. Louis hated this type of silent tension that was as straining as a rubber band being pulled to its fullest extent.  
“Yes, and?” He asked impatiently.  
“Well…why?” Louis sighed and slung his head down. He wasn’t in the mood for this conversation, so he tried keeping all of his answers as simple as possible.  
“Because…it’s a lot…it was a lot.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“When we were freshman…I was still trying to figure things out, so I thought it would be easier to just forget about that portion of my life and start out new with nothing holding me back.”  
“Still, though…that doesn’t make sense.”  
“How does that not make sense?”  
“Why you felt the need to start out new; did you think that we wouldn’t accept you if we knew about that?”  
“No…I mean…maybe a bit. But that’s not exactly – ”  
“Why did you think it would be easier to forget?” Zayn asked. Louis felt his stomach briefly fall down and gave him the short answer,  
“It was a really fresh wound.”  
“You’ve left it untreated for sixteen years.”  
“It’s not untreated, Li.”  
“Really?” Zayn questioned in a patronizing tone. Louis glared at him.  
“Yes.” He hissed in between his teeth.  
“You’re missing the point; you’ve hidden this from us for sixteen years. Sixteen years. Not like a day, or a month, or a year, or even five or ten years: sixteen years.”  
“Trust me, Liam, I understand your point.” Louis snapped at him.  
“We’re your best friends, right?” Louis was getting anxious and started bouncing his right leg up and down.  
“Yes.”  
“You’ve hidden something this big from us for this long and we’ve only scratched the surface of it…so how do we know that you’re not hiding something else from us?” Louis rolled his eyes; this was ridiculous. This was supposed to be their time to catch up and relax before work started, not the designated ‘interrogate Louis’ time.  
“I’m not hiding anything from you now.”  
“How are we supposed to know that, though?” Zayn questioned.  
“When would I have the time to live a double life? And besides, don’t you trust me enough to know that I wouldn’t hide anything from you two?”  
“Yeah…” Liam began, “but your parents trust you too, and right now they think that you’re dating a girl named Casey.” Louis’ chest tightened up at that comment and his leg stopped bouncing up and down. His head went on full alert mode: that was different. That was completely, totally, utterly, and one hundred percent different. He felt his heart rate increase by an interval of one thousand as his face heated up.  
“Have you quite finished?” He asked lowly with a frozen voice.  
“I didn’t want to bring it up, but – ”  
“I’m gonna stop you right there before you two embarrass yourself any further. One: you know why I told my parents that. Two: I do not treat you two like my parents in any way, shape, or form, so I’m kind of offended that you think I would treat you like that. And three: I’m not lying to you. I’ve never lied to you in the past, so why the fuck would I start now? I’ve never lied about Harry in the past; I’ve just kept that portion of my life from you two. Why? Because sometimes, I like to keep him from myself. Why? Because I don’t wanna waste my time thinking about all the ways I fucked up and how I could’ve changed it, because, well, I can’t change it. Yet, here I am, thinking about all of it again. So thank you for that.” Louis instantly looked up at the ceiling, closed his eyes, and took in a deep breath after his rant to try and calm down. It wasn’t working. His lungs felt like they were contracting.  
“I’m sorry.” Liam faintly apologized, “I shouldn’t have brought up the whole Casey thing…that was…I’m sorry.”  
“Lou,” He looked down to see Zayn thoroughly staring at him in contemplation, “don’t you ever feel like you’re living in one of your own lies?” Louis sardonically laughed to himself and shook his head.  
“You have no idea.”  
Nobody mentioned Harry for the rest of the day.

 

When Louis stayed at the firm that night after everyone else went home, he made finishing touches to the Styles-Horan Pediatric Care initial drawings, or as everyone had started to call it, the SHP project, pronounced as “ship”. Louis couldn’t help but think about Harry as a pediatric. Honestly, he never thought about what branch of medical school Harry would go down. And Harry helping kids…well, Harry helping anyone seemed fitting. It was certainly in his character. Louis briefly imagined the eighteen-year-old Harry he remembered in scrubs, helping a sick kid who he was just barely older than. For some reason, the thought warmed his chest. But…they were just kids back then. They were kids who thought they knew everything, and were afraid of growing up and facing reality. Louis really had no clue what he was doing back then.  
He still didn’t have a clue what he was doing now.  
He had to have two cups of tea that night.

 

The next day, Louis seriously started to freak out.  
He spent the better part of the morning pacing around his office like a lunatic. When he sat down, he spent the majority of the time repeatedly banging his head against his desk.  
Tomorrow.  
Louis might see Harry tomorrow.  
Might.  
After sixteen years, he might see him.  
Fucking might.  
Was he going to see him or not?  
Fuck all the might’s in the World.  
“…Lou? Are you okay?” He glanced up to see Leigh-Anne looking like she just saw a seal get shred into pieces by a shark.  
“Can you get Liam and Zayn?” The words were rushed out of his mouth. Holy mother, when did he start hyperventilating?  
“Umm – ”  
“Now?”  
“Yeah.” She quickly bounced out of his office and Louis slammed his head back onto his desk. What was ‘focus’? He’d never heard of the word ‘focus’ before. The only thing he heard was “Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry”. This couldn’t be healthy. There was no chance that even in Hell this was healthy. Maybe he should just check himself into a mental asylum. That could be his new life. Maybe they could wipe his mind, he could become a vegetable, and he could spend everyday looking at a white wall and contemplate what the color white was –  
“Louis?” That was Liam’s voice, he was sure of it. “I really hope that you’re not dead.” Louis heard the door close.  
“If I was dead, I wouldn’t have to deal with this.” He mumbled into his desk.  
“Deal with what?” That was definitely Zayn’s voice.  
“The end of the World.”  
“It’s not the end of the World.” Louis looked up to see both men intently staring at him from the other side of his desk.  
“Maybe it’s not the end of the World, but it definitely feels like the end of my sanity.”  
“Can I just point out that this is definitely an unhealed wound?”  
“This isn’t the time, Liam.”  
“I actually feel like this is a good time to talk about it.” Zayn recommended.  
“I agree with that.”  
“I can’t do this. “ Louis muttered underneath his breath. “I can’t. I’m not mentally prepared to do this.”  
“You can do this.”  
“No, Zayn, I can’t. Because…I can’t. I just…I feel like my insides are about to fucking explode and I…I can’t.”  
“Alright, maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe you should take tomorrow off or something – ”  
“That’s not an option. If I don’t figure this out by tomorrow, then me being a fucking coward wins once again and that’s not acceptable. I can’t run away again, but I can’t…just…fuck!” Louis banged his head back down onto his desk.  
“Louis, we don’t even know for sure if he’s coming or not.” He looked back up at Liam.  
“Exactly! How am I supposed to prepare myself for that?”  
“You can’t!” Louis’ breathing slowed down as he looked into Liam’s placid hazel eyes. “Right now, you’re your own worst enemy. You’re driving yourself insane. Stop over thinking everything. You’re just going to have to go with whatever way the current flows tomorrow.”  
“I just…I need to know.”  
“Again, this isn’t how life works.” Zayn added in.  
“Well fuck the way life works! I hate it. I hate guessing. I’m done with it.”  
“What about this: Liam and I will go out to meet Niall and possibly Harry first tomorrow. If he’s there, I’ll knock on your door twice. If he’s not, I’ll knock on your door once. How does that sound? This way, you’ll have about two seconds to mentally prepare yourself.”  
“Two seconds – ”  
“It’s better than none. Alright?” Louis sat there with his entire body feeling like a stone sinking in water. This was his best option? More like this was his only option. Wow, he was a mess.  
“Okay.”

 

They were scheduled to come in at 2:00. Right now, it was 1:58. The clock on his computer screen hypnotized Louis. He’d barely gotten five hours of sleep last night and knew he looked like the shittiest version of himself; although, he was wearing his favorite white button down shirt and his lucky gold satin tie underneath his jet-black suit jacket and pants. So he felt like a combination of the worst of himself with the best of himself…it was extremely conflicting. The bags under his eyes were probably the most prominent feature on his face next to the worry etched on it. He forced himself not to look out at the office floor.  
1:59.  
He shouldn’t have had that tuna salad sandwich for lunch. That was a horrible idea. Now a swordfish was stabbing the inside of his stomach even though he didn’t eat swordfish. Louis tried breathing in and out like Liam taught him: inhale through the nose, hold for five seconds, and exhale through the mouth. ‘I’m calm, I’m cool, I’m collected’ he repeated to himself. So what if he was sweating out enough fluid to fill up a pond? So what if his heart was running the fastest laps it ever has in its entire life? So what if he felt the need to run a marathon to get out all of this excess energy? He was fine.  
2:00.  
He wasn’t fine.  
In fact, the word ‘fine’ didn’t even exist in his vocabulary.  
Why didn’t Zayn knock on his door yet? Why wasn’t Niall here yet? What was going on?  
Louis looked up at the firm floor: nothing had changed. Everyone was still working, Liam wasn’t out there, and Zayn was…why was he at Perrie’s desk? He should be in his office waiting for Leigh-Anne to let him know that they were here. This was going to mess up the plan. He knew he shouldn’t have come in today. He should’ve called in sick. He wasn’t ready for this.  
2:01.  
Louis slammed his head down on his desk and shut his eyes. He couldn’t take it anymore. There was too much riding on this. His body was shaking. There were too many emotions going through his body.  
Anxiousness, fearfulness, concern, apprehension, worry, queasiness –  
Clankclank.  
The sound was barely audible but Louis immediately popped up and his eyes were blown open. He saw Zayn walking to the reception desk…from Louis’ office.  
Did he just knock on the door?  
Twice?  
Did Zayn just knock on the door twice?  
Holy fuck: he did.  
He definitely just knocked on the door twice.  
This was it.  
Harry was here. In their firm. Literally five steps away. Harry is here.  
Suddenly, Louis had the urge to just…move.  
Louis stood up, even though his legs felt like they were twigs about to give out any second now. His heart made even his lungs pound. His chest was in knots. His stomach was a whirlpool. As he walked forward, his wobbled on his legs. There was too much adrenaline going through his body. What if –  
‘No. Stop over thinking. Go with the flow.’ He told himself. Louis closed his eyelids, took one final deep inhalation, grasped the handle, and slowly unlatched the door.

 

When he opened his eyes, he swore there was a quick flash of bright white light.  
And there he was.  
He looked like everything and nothing had changed. Louis didn’t know that it was possible, but his body was elongated. He stood up tall with an erect posture. His entire facial structure wasn’t nearly as circular as it had been; it morphed into a lean oval shape. His jawbone was more defined. The lines in his face were sharp, not smooth and round like they used to be. There were no more pudgy cheeks. In their place sat smooth, long, tender cheeks. In fact, there was no trace of his adolescent flesh. Instead, there was only sleek and slender skin that fit perfectly around his muscles. His hair was cut shorter than Louis remembered, and was slicked upwards and back with gel.  
His overall presence, though. He was glowing, emitting his own light like Louis remembered from all those years ago. It was like neon lava erupting all over the firm, finally making the room as dazzling as Louis had originally envisioned for it to be. And his dimples. His dimples appeared on his face. His closed mouth smile with lean, plump, red lips extended to the outskirts of his face. And his eyes. His eyes were the exact same. There was a spark in them that hit Louis hard and threatened to throw him back. The gleam…he hadn’t seen that glimmer in so long. It was a radiant explosion of green. They were wide and bright in wonder and awe. And they were staring right at Louis.  
He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful, graceful, wonderful, handsome, and divine thing Louis had ever seen in his life.  
Louis wasn’t sure who walked forward first, but they were practically running to each other. Louis flung himself into his chest, his arms clutching around his waist, and sinking into his shape. He, on the other hand, had his arms clutching around Louis’ entire body, engulfing him in the most spectacular embrace Louis had in sixteen years. It was two puzzle pieces coming together after being separated from each other for so long in a sea of other pieces. Louis couldn’t hear or see anything around him; in fact, it was like time stopped. He had no idea what else was going on in the World, and quite frankly, he didn’t care. Even his mind was quiet, just absorbing the moment. The only sound Louis heard and felt was a heartbeat that didn’t belong to him. Louis was dazed, yet he could feel everything. Every atom in his body was ferociously animated, pounding and lighting off flares into outer space. There was a blissful, piping hot buzz that pumped throughout even the tiniest vessels of his body. Louis could feel everything.  
Then he started giggling. And the warm body he was molded against began to giggle as well. Louis could hear the sweet melody as he muzzled his face into the solid chest. He wasn’t sure when the tears began to come out of his eyes, but he felt the backs of his eyes burning and his throat become piping hot. Tears rolled down his cheeks, writing ‘I’m home’ as they slid onto his shirt. They were the most joyful tears Louis ever let out in his life.  
He was back.  
And Louis felt like he was alive.  
When they backed up to look at each other, Louis noticed that tears were falling out of both of their eyes. His eyes were looking at Louis like they’d never seen something this spectacular in his entire life. Louis’s chest swelled up at the sight, and more tears slid down; he was completely overwhelmed and overjoyed.  
“Hi Louis.” It was the voice of an angel. The voice that he hadn’t heard in sixteen years. The voice he continually dreamt about. The voice he longed to hear over and over and over again. It didn’t matter what it said, as long as it was still there. Its sweet, sultry molasses tune coated in caramel said his name for the first time in sixteen years. This was better than any of Louis’ dreams. This was better than anything Louis could’ve ever imagined. This was happiness: this was his own form of Heaven.  
“Hi Harry.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello amazing readers!!!! Thanks once again for your amazing support!!!!! I really appreciate it so much :)  
> I'm sorry this took so long to get up: it turned out to be much longer than I expected it to be.
> 
> I'd love to hear your feedback on the update!!!! I hope you like the direction the story is going in, and enjoy the update!!!!

“See,” It was a voice, but it wasn’t coming from Harry. Up until this point, everything that just happened felt like a dream. Louis felt elated; he was looking at Harry. God, he was holding Harry. Harry was in his arms, and he was in Harry’s arms. This only ever happened in Louis’ dreams. This was almost inconceivable. But it was the voice that brought him out of the state of disbelief. It told him that this wasn’t a dream: this was reality. This was actually happening. Harry was actually in his arms. But the voice also meant that there were other people in the silent room. And one of them was now talking. Louis suddenly looked out of his peripheral vision and became aware of the eleven other people who were also present. His gaze shifted to the space beyond Harry’s body. “I wasn’t lying.” Niall said with a smug look on his face. Harry’s hands unexpectedly detached from around Louis’ torso. Louis felt himself softly shiver at the loss of contact: he didn’t want to let go. Harry’s gaze was no longer on Louis’ face and he was turning around, so Louis was forced to let go. He wanted to keep looking into Harry’s eyes and tell him never look away again. Instead, he took this opportunity to wipe his face clear of tearstains.  
“What?” Liam asked.  
“Harry thought I was lying when I told him that Louis worked here.”  
“I didn’t think you were lying.”  
“Yeah you did.” Harry turned around and his eyes locked onto Louis’. Harry looked like he was a five year-old on Christmas morning, and there was a puppy sitting underneath the tree with his name on it. He was in shock, but if his huge smile was anything to go by, it was close to the best surprise he’d ever gotten in his life. All Louis had to do was stand there to make Harry look like this, even if he was trying to get his organs to stop playing musical chairs so barbarically. He felt like he was seventeen again.  
“No, I just…I didn’t believe that it was actually you.”  
“Yeah, I’m…yeah.” Louis nervously chuckled. God, he felt utterly incoherent when Harry was looking at him like this.  
“You, ummm, you look amazing, though.” Louis felt his cheeks flush at the comment and prayed that it didn’t show too obviously. Harry just said he looked amazing; this was better than any dream.  
“Thanks…you look…” gorgeous, handsome, beautiful, like an angel, “great.”  
“Thanks.” Harry brought his right hand up and began to rub the back of his neck while he bit his bottom lip and shuffled his feet. He was a man, but he looked just as flustered as he used to get when they were teenagers. The sight made Louis want to faint because how was it possible that this was happening? Louis wanted to pull him into a hug again, but there were too many onlookers. Nobody else in the entire firm was talking.  
“So…” Louis cleared his throat; he wasn’t really sure what to do. He turned around to see everyone looking up from their work at Louis and Harry with wide eyes like they were the headline entertainment for the night. One of the best moments in his life had suddenly turned into one of the most awkward moments in less than a minute. Okay: now this felt more like reality. “Right. Should we get to it, then?”  
“Yeah, I just need to get the drawings.” Zayn said before jogging into his office. Louis took another look around the firm and everyone was still staring at him in silence. This was obnoxiously uncomfortable; nobody was even trying to make conversation. He began to rock back on forth on his feet and clapped his hands together.  
“Do you guys want water or something?” The question was directed to both Niall and Harry, but Louis was only looking at Harry.  
“I’m good, thanks.” Niall responded.  
“M’fine.” He was still smiling at Louis. Harry was breathtakingly gorgeous; he definitely aged with grace. He was no longer lanky and gangly; he was tall, firm, and put together. His face had strong laughter lines engraved in it that were deep, solidified, and secure. Louis wanted to reach out and just…touch.  
“Did you ever figure out what you got food poisoning from?” Niall asked. Louis barely registered that the question was directed at him; he was too busy soaking in all the details about Harry.  
“Oh, umm – ”  
“It was the burger he had for lunch.” Liam quickly swooped in and answered for Louis. Oh, right. At their last meeting Louis threw up. Right. Do too many untouched feelings count as food poisoning? Liam was aware at this point that Louis didn’t get food poisoning, nor did he eat a burger for lunch that day, so he was quite grateful for Liam answering the question when Louis was too unfocused to think of a proper lie.  
“Yeah. It was undercooked.”  
“Oh man, that sucks. Have you ever been to the Shake Shack on Sansom Street?”  
“Ummm…I can’t say I have.” Niall’s jaw dropped open.  
“Really? Oh man, you have got to go there. Seriously: they have the best burgers. It won’t be undercooked. The line is usually out the door during lunchtime and dinner rush, but it’s worth the wait. They have beer and Root beer floats – ”  
“Niall’s dragged me there before. It’s actually really good.” Harry added in. Louis was captivated by the voice. It sounded like it got deeper; how was that even possible?  
“It was last week and I didn’t drag you there.”  
“Okay, but remember our second year at Penn? You dragged me out practically every night to eat at a different restaurant.”  
“We agreed on doing a year of food emersion!” Niall argued defensively.  
“Have you been to every restaurant in the city, then?” Liam asked.  
“In center city, practically.” Harry said with a small laugh.  
“He refused to go to some of them.”  
“M’sorry that I didn’t wanna get shot while going out to eat.”  
“Don’t sound so upset about it. It was worth it, though, because now we know what the best places are. Like, if I’m in the mood for Greek food, I know where to go. If I want a falafel, I know that I should go to the Kabob house.” Louis chuckled before saying,  
“Why are you a doctor, Niall? You should be a restaurant reviewer.”  
“I get that a lot.”  
“Mainly from me.” Harry said while smirking. His eyes met Louis’ again, and three seconds later, Louis realized he forgot to breathe. It was just…Harry was in front of him. Looking at him. Smiling at him. And he didn’t want to let go of this feeling.  
“Ready?” Zayn popped out of his office with a folder in his hands.  
“Yeah, let’s go.” Liam said before herding them all off in the direction of the meeting room. He and Niall were debating the best place to get the spiciest chicken wings while Harry stuck by Louis’ side. Louis wanted to make conversation, but he didn’t know what to say. Just glancing at Harry left Louis speechless because wow, how the fuck was this his life? Everyone else in the firm was now whispering, undoubtedly about the scene that had just played out before them. That was the only disadvantage to being in a small company composed of a tight-knit group of people: everyone knew everything. And if they didn’t, they’d always have a way of finding out. Fucking moles. They all knew at this point that Harry was an old friend of Louis’, but Liam and Zayn were the only ones who were semi-aware of what the true…nature of their relationship was. As they were walking, Harry leaned down and whispered into Louis’ ear,  
“Is it always this quiet?” The ancient yet completely familiar shockwave of goose bumps was sent throughout the entirety of Louis’ body. Everything and nothing had changed. This was ridiculous.  
“I like to think of them as cats.” Harry giggled from the bottom of his throat. Louis had the intense urge to put his hands on Harry’s chest and feel it vibrate when he talked; he couldn’t remember how he’d managed to forget how it actually felt to hear Harry laugh. “They have to examine the new people invading their home before letting you pet them.”  
“I’m invading?” Oh no: how did he already manage to insult Harry?  
“No, no, ‘course not. You’re just like a, umm – ” Harry nudged Louis with his elbow.  
“M’kidding.” When Louis looked at his face again, Harry had on a sly grin. When did Louis become the nervous one?  
“Right.”

 

Louis stayed focused during the meeting.  
For the most part.  
It was just that Harry was here. In the same room as him. And realistically, how was he supposed to focus when Harry was here? How was he supposed to talk about work when all he wanted to talk about was Harry?  
So Louis tried to stay focused.  
But Zayn and Liam were talking and explaining the design to Harry and Niall. So it was okay for Louis to not intently focus on the sketches. He’d seen them more than fifty times in the past day, he’d finalized them for God’s sake, and Zayn and Liam had the reigns right now. And Harry was literally sitting four feet across from him. All Louis wanted to do was catch up with him and make him laugh and make him smile and look into his eyes and hear his voice and feel his skin and hold him and never let him go again.  
So it was okay for Louis not to be too focused.  
Instead, he carefully alternated his glances between the table, his hands, the drawings, and Harry…focusing most of his time on the latter. Harry was wearing a beige suit over a white button down and a light pink tie. He looked so formal; Louis could barely take it. It was like he was dressed to attend a spring wedding, not a meeting in the winter with his architects. His long, delicate fingers were linked together and rested on top of the table as he leaned forward to look at the drawings. He seemed so intent on paying attention to the sketches with his eyebrows furrowed and mouth in a straight line. It almost made Louis laugh a few times because all he could see was an adolescent Harry dressing up and trying to act like a businessman. Louis was still having a hard time getting over the fact that Harry was, indeed, sitting four feet away from him. And they weren’t eighteen anymore. They were adults.  
But sometimes Harry would glance up and meet Louis’ eyes, then immediately look back down at the drawings, and bite his bottom lip to try and stop the incoming smile. The dimples were a dead giveaway, though. And then Harry would look up at Louis once again to see if Louis was still looking; Louis would divert his attention down to his hands and pretend that his heart wasn’t fluttering like a moth’s wings.  
“ – right, Louis?” Louis looked up from his hands to see Liam staring at him.  
Shit, he wasn’t focused at all.  
“Right, yeah…sure.” He answered. Liam rolled his eyes; he didn’t have the ability to pretend he didn’t care when it came to Louis’ inability to pay attention during a meeting. In Louis’ defense, though, this was different than just zoning out of it: this was Harry. He heard Harry stifle a giggle, and looked back over at him. Harry was biting his bottom lip, and wow, he was completely aware that he was disorienting Louis. Louis was about to sink down in his chair so he could spread his legs forward to tap Harry’s foot with his own, but then he realized that wasn’t exactly appropriate…or was it? No, no, it definitely wasn’t. They’re both thirty-four and this is worktime. But that didn’t stop the intense desire to reach out and card his fingers through Harry’s hair. Okay: that was definitely not appropriate. Instead, when the two made eye contact again, Louis quickly stuck his tongue out then right back in like a lizard, which made Harry cackle and cover his mouth with his right hand.  
So Louis was focused…just not on work. 

 

It was after he shook Niall’s hand and was looking at Harry that Louis began to panic. They were leaving, and that was the last thing on the planet that Louis wanted. Harry’s voice sounded like it was shaking when he said, “I, ummm…this was great. Seeing you.”  
“Yeah. Definitely.”  
“Kinda weird. I, ummm, I never thought…yeah.” Never thought what? That they would see each other again? Yeah, neither did Louis. They both chuckled nervously.  
“Yeah.” The only thing going through Louis’ mind was ‘please don’t leave, please don’t leave, please don’t leave’.  
“I guess, I’ll ummm…I’ll see you around then?” See him around? Why not stay around?  
“Yeah.” Harry held out his right hand and Louis took a grasp of it; both of their hands were sweating. Louis’ heart rate increased by a mile. It was one thing to remember holding Harry’s hand; it was another to remember the actual feel of Harry’s hand. It was the sense of touch, the act of physically coming in contact with Harry’s hand that Louis had forgotten; truly feeling that Harry was there, and that he was still holding onto him. Louis became unnerved at that thought: he didn’t want to let go again. He refused to let go again. Louis blurted out like a bumbling idiot: “Are you, like, free sometime? To catch up or something?” Harry’s eyes grew ten times their size and Louis swore they looked like they were about to bulge out of their sockets.  
“Oh. Yeah, sure. That’d be…great. Ummm, d’you have a phone?” Louis frantically nodded,  
“Yeah.”  
“You have it on you?”  
“It’s in my office, I can go get it – ”  
“Ummm, no, here.” Harry pulled his hand out of Louis’ grasp and into his pant’s pocket to pull out his cell phone. “Put your number in mine and I’ll text you?”  
“Yeah, sure. Sure.” Louis took a hold of Harry’s iphone, their fingertips touching as he did so. He tried to not let the sudden shock affect him, but the miniscule hairs on his fingers were standing up as he entered his contact information. “Here you go.” He said when he finished. His eyes were still glued to the screen, though. He stared at his name in Harry’s contact list, smiling at the sight. It wasn’t like Louis was trying to snoop around or anything: it was just put in his number and get out. The only thing was that when his name showed up on Harry’s contact list, Louis saw a heart besides one of the names that was below his. That shouldn’t have made him frown in concern, because it was probably just a friend who put it there as a joke. But it did, because what if it wasn’t a friend? He really had no right to become possessive over Harry. This was just Harry. This was Harry, the one who was his best friend for six years. Harry, the one who always kept his promises. Harry, the one who would help a fly and not hurt it. Harry, the one who kept the door open for strangers. Harry, the one who gave and gave and gave, and barely ever asked for anything in return. Harry, the one that brought Louis in and out of reality. Harry, the one who was always unconditionally there. Harry, the one who was always so sure of everything. Harry, the one with the sweet, comforting, molasses voice. Harry, the one with eyes that challenged the fields of Ireland. Harry, the one who was always beautiful and wonderful and magnificent. This was the Harry he saw as his own family. This was the Harry who had unwillingly left Louis’ life for sixteen years. This was the Harry who wrote ‘I think I’m falling for you’ on Louis’ birthday card.  
This was the Harry that Louis wanted to become a better person for.  
This was the Harry whom Louis wanted to prove he was a better person to.  
This was his Harry.  
And damn it, Louis was possessive over what was his.  
“Cool.” Harry took his phone out of Louis’ hands before he could see what name the heart was next to. “I’ll text you?” Of course Harry would make this a question.  
“Yeah, definitely.”  
“Okay…I’ll, ummm, I’ll see you soon, Lou.” He called him Lou. Not Louis, but Lou. Just like old times and fuck, could somebody get the flying, fire breathing dragon out of his stomach?  
“Yeah…yeah.” Harry smiled and bit his bottom lip.  
“See you.” And that was when Louis had half of the mind to grab onto Harry’s arm and tell him to stay here for the day. The other half of his mind told him not to be so…this, though. He decided to stand motionless as he watched Harry walk out of the door with Niall. And he was surprisingly okay with that, if only because it was guaranteed that they’d see each other again. When the door shut, he wanted to run out and hug Harry again and say ‘I missed you’ and ‘I can’t believe you’re here’ and ‘you look beautiful, you always do’ and ‘I still think about you’ and ‘I won’t leave you again, I promise’ and ‘I regret so much’ and ‘I missed you like Hell’. But Niall was with him, and it would be strange to do that in front of other people. Besides, he now had the opportunity to hug Harry the next time he saw him…the next time. Because even though the door closed, Harry would eventually open it back up again. There was now a next time.  
Harry was definitely back in Louis’ life.  
He felt like skipping around the room like Lottie used to do. Instead, when he turned around, everybody was once again looking at him. And then Zayn started clapping his hands very slowly. Then others gradually joined in until everybody was applauding Louis like he’d just finished performing the best one-man show on Earth.  
“I hate you all.” He groaned before walking into his office. Zayn and Liam followed him in, both with shit eating grins plastered onto their faces. Zayn ran up behind Louis and slapped him on the back.  
“So…is the only word in your vocabulary ‘yeah’?”  
“Fuck off.”  
“Yeah…yeah.” Zayn tried to impersonate Louis, which sent he and Liam into hysterics. Louis shoved him aside.  
“Do you need a glass of water?” Liam asked.  
“It was the polite thing to ask!”  
“If anyone needs a tall glass of water, it’s definitely you.”  
“You looked thirsty and it was making me uncomfortable.” Zayn said, making both of them laugh again. Louis wasn’t going to deal with this mockery right now.  
“Okay, get out. Both of you. Now.”  
“Oh come on; we’re just kidding.”  
“I’m not kidding: I was really uncomfortable when I looked at those two eyeing each other up.”  
“We were not eyeing each other up.” Zayn nodded sarcastically and winked at him.  
“Sure you weren’t.”  
“Out. Now. I have work – ”  
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that flustered before. Like…ever.”  
“I wasn’t flustered, Liam.”  
“Really? Because I – umm – e, oh, ah – ye…yea…yeah – o”  
“I didn’t sound like that.” Zayn was bent over in silent laughter with his nose scrunched up. Liam was blatantly laughing out into the open room. Why was this so funny to them? “…Did I actually sound like that?” Liam caught his breath before saying,  
“I’ve never heard you trip over your words like that.”  
“Okay, well if you were in my shoes, you would be nervous too. I just…words…”  
“Are not in your dictionary?”  
“They just couldn’t accurately describe what I wanted to say.”  
“I’m sure that you stumbling over your words got the message across.” Liam began to laugh again as Louis slumped down into his chair.  
“Oh God; was I seriously that much of blubbering idiot?”  
“No, Lou. We’re just fucking with you. You were fine.”  
“Two seconds ago you said I wasn’t, though – ”  
“Calm down. You did great, I promise.” Louis looked up into Liam’s soothing eyes and took a deep breath. The nice thing about Liam was that as much as they mocked each other, they could unconditionally trust each other’s opinions.  
“On a more serious note: how did you think it went?” Zayn asked.  
“Honestly…words still can’t accurately describe how good it was. It was…” Louis chuckled to himself. There really weren’t any words to describe how…happy…yeah, happy he felt. “…great.”  
“Alright, well that’s great then.”  
“Yeah…but if it was your goal to make it as awkward as fuck at some points, then congratulations on that.”  
“We didn’t make it awkward.” Liam said while rolling his eyes.  
“So, standing around while silently watching us and not trying to start a conversation doesn’t make things awkward?”  
“We didn’t want to ruin the moment.”  
“The moment?”  
“Yeah, it was a moment.”  
“It wasn’t a moment – ”  
“I think I saw a few tears come out of your eyes.”  
“Fuck off.”  
“I wouldn’t be worrying if I were you; you got digits.” Louis and Liam both stared at Zayn.  
“What are you talking about?”  
“You got his number.”  
“I gave him my number.”  
“Well I’m guessing he’s going to call you or something at some point in – ”  
“Maybe he already has; have you checked your phone?”  
“It’s barely been five minutes. I’d doubt he’d text me by now.”  
“You don’t know this.” Liam pointed out. Of course Harry wouldn’t text him five minutes after he left, that would just be…people don’t do that…do they? Louis had the sudden impulse to reach into his desk drawer and pull out his cell phone. But that would show Liam and Zayn that he was anxiously awaiting Harry’s text. It was an itch he couldn’t scratch for reasons of his own integrity.  
“Well, this conversation was great, but – ”  
“Just check your phone.” Liam told him.  
“I was actually going to suggest getting back to work.”  
“C’mon, Liam.” Zayn slung an arm around Liam’s shoulders, “He spent the past hour ogling over Harry; he needs to make up for the lost work time.”  
“I wasn’t ogling – ”  
“Yeah – I, ah, umm, eh – oh y–you ah umm were yeah.” The two of them began laughing again as Louis rolled his eyes,  
“There’s the door; don’t let the door hit you on your way out.”

 

He waited a full ten minutes after Liam and Zayn left his office to pull out his phone, which he was extremely proud of. Except, there was no new message. Which got Louis thinking: would Harry even text? What if he forgot? Damn it, he really should’ve gotten Harry’s number before he left. Honestly, Louis shouldn’t have even looked at his phone because now all he was thinking about was Harry: how amazing it felt to touch him, to hold him, to just have him back again after all these years. Harry looked amazing, he felt amazing, he sounded amazing, he was amazing, and he made Louis feel amazing. Louis wanted nothing more than to talk to him. Like, a long talk about what he’d done in the past sixteen years. He wanted to know every single story with each detail included. God, Louis felt like he should live in salt for letting Harry slip through his fingers. What the fuck was he thinking back then? Louis knew he couldn’t change the past…but what about now? He regretted the things he did when he was a teenager, but maybe he could make up for all of his mistakes now. He wanted to make up for all the stupid things he did.  
If only Harry would text him.  
Damn it, he knew he should’ve gotten Harry’s number. 

 

It was 7:03pm when Louis got a text that said ‘Hi stranger! Sorry I took so long to text you! It’s Harry, btw (:’ and Louis heart threatened to punch its way out of his chest. He quickly stored the number. It was a strange sort of exhilaration, though; he had Harry’s number. He could talk to Harry through this number. Louis stared at the bright, white, beautiful screen that hosted the message on it and tried to think about what he wanted to say. 

To Harry: It’s fine, don’t worry about it (: How was the rest of your day?

Louis never texted with smiley faces. That never happened. Ever. But something in him told him to send a smiley face back so Harry knew it was okay. He got a response almost instantaneously.

From Harry: It was good! Niall and I got lunch and then met up with a few friends. Just got home from dinner. How was your day?

To Harry: Nice, sounds like a good day! Mine was pretty damn good…oh and work was fine too hahah 

Okay, so maybe he was being a bit bold with that. But it was a great day because of Harry and Harry deserved to know that.

From Harry: Yeah, it was a pretty damn good day for me too (: still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that you’re here in Philly and all

To Harry: I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I saw you for the first time in sixteen years today hahaha

From Harry: Lol yeah, me too. And if we’re being exact, it’s been almost 15 years and 8 months.

Well then. Harry kept track. Harry was keeping track of how long it’d been. 

To Harry: I guess we’re being exact now hahah

His own text made his stomach swoop. We. He referred to he and Harry as ‘we’. They were a ‘we’ again…wow. 

From Harry: Guess we are (: 

Yep. They were definitely a ‘we’ again. It was like those sixteen years that kept them apart didn’t even happen. Except, they did. And Louis needed to make up for it.

To Harry: So are you free any time soon to catch up or something? If you wanna, that is

From Harry: Course I want to! Ummm, I have off every Wednesday and Sunday and thankfully I’m not on call this month, but you work on Wednesdays…maybe this Sunday? If you’re not doing anything?

This Sunday. He didn’t have any plans for this Sunday, and now he would be seeing Harry again. This was insane. Everything was coming back together so quickly. No dinner dates, though…at least not yet.

To Harry: Yeah, sure! Do you wanna get breakfast/brunch/lunch or something?

From Harry: Definitely! Is brunch okay? Sorry, I like to sleep in until like 10 in Sundays hahah need to catch up for all the sleep I don’t get during the week.

To Harry: Yeah that’s fine. Where do you wanna go?

From Harry: Devil’s Alley Bar and Grill has good brunch food. It’s on 19th and Chestnut. Wanna go there?

To Harry: I’ll trust you and your year of food escapades hahaha what time?

From Harry: Yay! Is 11 okay?

To Harry: Yep! Sounds great!

From Harry: Okay, see ya then, Lou (: have a good night!

Those four words made his heart skip a beat. Lou: Harry called him Lou again. He read the text over at least five times and heard each word coming out of Harry’s mouth. This day, February 5th, 2014, would definitely be a day Louis would remember for a long time. Louis texted Harry the only thing he found suiting.

To Harry: See ya then, Haz (: have a good night too!

 

“What’s appropriate to wear out to brunch?”  
“Are you serious?” Zayn’s groggy voice came out of Louis’ phone that sat on top of his dresser. He had Zayn on speaker, while he was standing in front of his bedroom mirror, alternating between holding up four different shirts to his figure. One was a blue button down, the next was a red knit sweater, another was a gray waffle shirt, and the last was a slim-fitting, black, long sleeved shirt. “You called me for this?”  
“Like, do I wear a collared shirt, or a long sleeved-shirt, or a sweater?”  
“I don’t care. Just wear something.”  
“You mean I shouldn’t show up naked?”  
“It’s too early for your sarcasm.”  
“It’s ten – ”  
“On a Sunday morning, and I’m going back to sleep.”  
“Zaaaaayn.”  
“You’ll be fine.”  
“Okay, okay…just really quickly: what color do I look best in?”  
“Oh my God, Lou. I literally have no idea.”  
“Blue, red, gray, or black?” He heard Zayn sigh.  
“Ehm…green.”  
“That wasn’t an opti – ”  
“Have fun.”  
“Zayn!” He yelled. No response came from his phone. Louis put the shirts down on his bed walked over to the dresser to see that Zayn hung up on him. He didn’t hesitate to text him ‘Prick :P If this goes bad, I’m blaming you’. It wasn’t that Louis was expecting this to go bad…it was just that he could never really be sure about anything. It wouldn’t come down to how Louis dressed, but it definitely wouldn’t hurt if he dressed as attractive as possible. He decided on the slim-fitting, black, long sleeved shirt underneath his green hooded coat because…well fuck it: maybe Zayn was right. Maybe. Zayn could’ve just been messing with him, but what if green was the best color on him? Then he should wear green. It’s not like Louis was expecting anything: it was just brunch. With Harry.  
Okay, so maybe he was hoping for some….things. But not now; maybe someday in the future. Today would just lay down the foundation. Hopefully. Besides, this would be their first time hanging out alone in years. He was less nervous than he’d been this past Wednesday, but he was still anxious because there was an expectation to actually talk this time. Not that Louis had a problem with talking. He was just afraid that he might say something to make Harry tell him ‘I don’t want you in my life, you asshole. I was better off without you’. Not that Harry would actually say that. It was just the ‘what if’ again.  
‘No, no, no,’ he told himself, ‘no more what ifs. Follow Liam’s advice: go with the flow. Don’t over think things. Adapt to the situation. Enjoy the moment.’

 

It was hard to enjoy the moments spent walking to the restaurant since it was just barely warmer than Hoth outside; Louis’ nipples felt like they could cut glass. He spent the majority of the time regretting not putting on gloves and leaving so early. Louis wasn’t sure if was the nipping frost, the nerves, or the combination of both that made his body shiver so violently. When he turned the corner, though, he immediately recognized Harry standing on the sidewalk, hands stuffed in the pockets of his black trench coat and a dull grey beanie wrapped around his head, looking down at the ground, and shuffling his feet. It may have been a dull day with quite the overcast, but that didn’t matter; the glow that Harry’s skin produced was bright enough to make up for the absence of the sun. If that didn’t make Louis’ heart stutter, then the fact that Harry was ten minutes early as well and waiting to see Louis definitely did. He wasn’t sure whether to call out Harry’s name or not, so he picked up his pace and was practically jogging to close the distance between them. As if he knew something was going on, Harry looked up in Louis’ direction and a wide, dimpled smile appeared on his face.  
It wasn’t a doubt of whether or not they would hug again when Harry began to walk forward with his arms outstretched and Louis walked into them like it was an open door. Harry’s body felt as toasty as a furnace, and Louis wouldn’t have minded cuddling up into him for the rest of the day. Holding Harry would never get old. No matter how many times they embraced in the past or would in the future, there was something different and unique about each time, yet it was still them. It was always a different circumstance, with different things spoken, and different things left unspoken, but it was still them. Louis would always feel Harry’s solid, warm body. Louis would always smell Harry’s sweet scent. It was still Harry after all these years.  
It would always be Harry.  
When they pulled apart, a cold gush of wind caress Louis’ face and he felt a bit guilty, “How long have you been here for?”  
“Ummm, only like two minutes.”  
“Oh, good.” Harry nodded, grinning like the Cheshire cat with his eyes locked onto Louis’. The attention made Louis feel like he must’ve been the Holy Grail or something to deserve that look, which only made him extraordinarily self-conscious. It wasn’t that Louis hated his body, it was just…well, he didn’t feel like the Holy Grail or as God-like as Harry. Louis wasn’t sure what he did to deserve to be looked at like that. He pulled down the bottom of his jacket. “Okay, we need to get inside because it’s cold as balls out here.” Harry chuckled.  
“Tell me about it.”  
“It’s cold as balls out here.”  
“You haven’t changed at all, have you?” Harry asked jokingly.  
“Apparently not. C’mon.” Louis made sure to open the door for him, which seemed to surprise Harry as his eyebrows flew up and a grateful smile appeared on his face.  
“Thanks.”  
“Yeah, no problem.”  
The restaurant, which looked like a small coffee shop from the outside, was ten times bigger than Louis’ expected it to be on the inside. It was two floors, adorned with a bar on one side, black tables loitering the ground, luscious plants growing in the middle of the floors and wrapped around the stair rails, and was dimly lit with red and yellow lights. They were taken downstairs, and sat at a two-person table. On the wall, there was a painting of a yellow devil holding a red wine bottle. The hostess handed them both a menu, but when she walked away, neither of them bothered to open it.  
“So, how’ve you been?” Louis asked.  
“I’ve been doing good; what about you?” Harry took the hat off of his head and shook his hair out. It wasn’t nearly as long as it used to be, but it looked like he found a balance between having luscious curls and keeping his mane tamed down. There was no gel in it, and it was perfectly unrefined. He looked strangely sophisticated.  
“Good, good. Still trying to comprehend how this even happened.”  
“I told Niall that I liked the name of your firm without ever doing any research or even knowing it was your firm.”  
“I’d usually disapprove for not doing any research, but I came up with the name, so I understand why you were blown away at first mention.” Harry’s smile radiated more light than each artificial lamp in the room combined; that wasn’t saying much, but still. The glow was there. The glow was back, and it was brighter than Louis remembered it being. Harry could probably be a model for toothpaste commercials if he wanted to.  
“It clearly worked out.”  
“Clearly so.”  
“Wait, so how long have you been in Philly for?”  
“It’ll be seven years now.”  
“Really?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Wow…that’s…that’s really weird to think about: we’ve been within two miles of each other for the past seven years and had no idea.” That was really fucking weird. How did they not run into each other before? Why didn’t they run into each other before?  
“The World has a funny way of working things out, I guess.”  
“I guess so.” Louis looked down and opened up his menu. The restaurant’s mascot was a big, plump, red devil with yellow eyes, lounging on its side, and holding a martini glass up in the air. It was kind of freaky looking, even if it was only a cartoon. It was strange how some people decided to view the Devil. Granted, Louis wasn’t very religious, but this was never what he imagined the Devil to look like when he was in Sunday school.  
“Have you been here before?”  
“Yeah, I actually come here quite a bit.”  
“Mmm. What d’you suggest then?”  
“Hello!” The light, airy voice definitely didn’t belong to Harry. He looked up to see a young, petite, brunette standing next to their table. “My name’s Marissa and I’ll be taking care of you today. Can I start you off with something to drink?” She was looking at Harry with a huge grin and wide, mud-brown eyes. It was blatantly obvious that she was infatuated with him, which awoken something inside of Louis that made him want to tell her ‘He likes dick, which you do not have. And he’s here for me. You can go away now’. He settled for rolling his eyes instead.  
“Ummm, I’ll have a glass of apple juice, please.” And that made Louis smile to himself, because no matter how much Harry looked like he was a fully-grown adult, he was nothing more than the innocent twelve-year-old at heart.  
“And yourself?”  
“A cup of coffee would be great.”  
“Alright, one apple juice and one coffee; I’ll be right back.” And then she flounced away. Louis kind of wanted to tell her to not bother coming back, but he was really craving coffee and wouldn’t dare of depriving Harry his apple juice.  
“The devil’s breakfast.” Louis looked up at Harry.  
“What?”  
“I’d recommend the devil’s breakfast. With the bacon.”  
“Oh. Okay.” Louis looked down at the menu to see that what Harry was talking about: two eggs, potatoes, toast, and either bacon, ham, or sausage. He could really go for bacon right now. “Looks good.”  
“It is. So…I have to ask: how did you end up here?”  
“I asked if you wanted to catch up and you said – ”  
“No, you idiot.” Harry said while laughing, “In Philly? How did you end up in Philly?”  
“Umm, I guess it was a combination of things.”  
“Like…?”  
“Cheap price, nice space, good area.”  
“Oh…so did you start the firm when you moved here?”  
“Yeah. Liam, Zayn, and I decided in our second year in college that we wanted to start one someday.” Harry nodded.  
“When did you meet them?”  
“Freshman year. Their room was down the hall from mine, and the next year we rented an apartment together and just stayed like that until we moved here.”  
“Nice. They seem like good friends.”  
“Yeah, they’re great.” ‘But they still couldn’t make up for your absence’ Louis wanted to add. He decided against saying that, though. “So yeah…after we did our internships, we just figured that we might as well start our own firm.”  
“What, you got sick of working for someone else?”  
“I didn’t get sick of it…sort of. It was just that I’d rather not work for somebody else after I did my internship. The guy I worked for was the definition of an asshole. I mean, I could’ve worked for him, but I really didn’t want to. Besides, we butted heads a lot; sometimes people have really shitty ideas, he happened to be one of them, and I just can’t deal with it. Plus, I like control. You should know that.”  
“Yes you do…” Harry’s mind seemed to drift off for a few seconds as he just looked at Louis with pondering eyes. Louis really wanted to know what he was thinking. “So, how was Syracuse?”  
“It was great. Good people, good parties, good professors, fantastic program…really it was everything I ever could’ve wanted in a school. I got to study a year abroad in Florence.”  
“Woah! That’s…that’s amazing. Do you know Italian?”  
“Un po’.”  
“I’m guessing that means a little bit?”  
“Sí, signore. It was kind of difficult, not gonna lie. More than ninety percent of the time we had no idea what the locals were saying to us. Kind of makes me wish they offered Italian back in High School so I wouldn’t have wasted my time with French.”  
“Maybe you’ll use your French some day, though.”  
“When I get to Paris, I’ll let you know.” Harry chuckled,  
“I’ll hold you to that. So how was it?”  
“It was absolutely incredible. I’ve been trying to plan a trip to go back there ever since, but I just don’t have the time to do it. Like, that’s one of my life’s goals now.”  
“Woah, look at you and your life goals.” Harry said with a grin. Louis chuckled,  
“You sound surprised.”  
“No, I mean…I’m just happy for you.”  
“For wanting to go back to Florence?”  
“No, just…nevermind.” Louis wanted to know where Harry was going with that, but decided to not pursue it for now. “Did you have authentic Italian gelato?”  
“Of course. What’s the point of going to Italy if you don’t get gelato?”  
“That’s definitely the first reason I could think of.” Harry said sarcastically.  
“And pizza and pasta.”  
“Second and third.” Louis couldn’t help but laugh at that; Harry seemed much more susceptible to playful banter than he was when they were teenagers.  
“Here we go!” The waitress was back and Louis’ laughter was gone. “One apple juice,” she fluttered her eyelashes at Harry while setting his drink down. Louis wanted to trip her, “and one coffee.” Then she put down Louis’ coffee and cream and he didn’t really feel it that necessary to trip her anymore. “You gentlemen know what you’d like to order?”  
“Ummm, yeah, Lou?”  
“Yeah, I’m good.”  
“Okay, what can I get for you?” Marissa looked at Harry. Harry looked at Louis and nodded to him. Louis took this as his cue to order.  
“Can I have the devil’s breakfast with scrambled eggs and bacon?” He asked. Marissa briefly glanced at him before scribbling down the order on her notepad. She wasn’t expecting Louis to order first, and it definitely caught her off guard. Louis felt pleased with himself. But then she looked back up at Harry, trying to impersonate a damsel in distress, and Louis wasn’t so pleased.  
“Okay. And for you?”  
“Same thing as him, please.” Harry proceeded to hold out his hand to Louis, motioning for him to hand Harry his menu, which he did. Something about all this felt so domestic. And that made Louis feel a thousand times lighter for some reason.  
“Alright, two devil’s breakfasts with bacon. I’ll take those for you.” She reached down, definitely trying to squeeze her breasts together as she did so, and took the menus out of Harry’s hand. Harry didn’t seem to have a clue that she was trying to catch his attention as he handed them off and then immediately focused his attention back on Louis while she walked away with a pout. ‘Ha. Take that. I’m more important to him.’ He thought in his mind.  
“What degree did you get?”  
“A Masters in Architecture.”  
“Nice.”  
“What about you?”  
“I have my Doctorate.”  
“Really? That’s amazing, Haz!” The nickname flowed out of Louis’ mind without him even thinking about it. He couldn’t really tell, but Harry looked a bit flushed as he tried to conceal a smile and bit his bottom lip.  
“Thanks.” Why was he so bashful? Damn it, that boy – no, man, was still endearing.  
“How long did it take?”  
“Ummm, I was in school for eight years and then did my residency for three years. I’ve worked at CHOP ever since. Well, until now, that is.”  
“Wow…that’s a shit ton of school.” Harry softly laughed, “How did you manage that?”  
“It was…something. I can definitely guarantee you that it’s not for everyone.”  
“Not everyone has the determination that you do.”  
“I guess not…”  
“Stop being so modest; you’ve gotta have some determination to start your own practice.”  
“Yeah…I mean, a fair amount of people I met in at medical school dropped out because it was too much for them. It’s a special type of soul sucking program.” Louis chuckled,  
“And you always said I was the dramatic one.”  
“Lou,” His stomach did a flip when he heard the nickname come out of Harry’s mouth, “the amount of work I did for school literally crushed me. I barely had any free time to just…I dunno, be a college kid?”  
“Oh c’mon. I’m sure you went to parties.”  
“Only when Niall dragged me to them.”  
“Sure…”  
“No, I’m not even kidding. I was always studying; I practically had a study room reserved in the library all the time.”  
“Sounds like you were a loser.”  
“That basically sums it up.” They both laughed together and took this moment to take a sip of their drinks. Louis could imagine Harry being the professor’s favorite student, going to their office after class to ask questions, making a den for himself in the library, and effortlessly working to end up at the top of his class. That seemed pretty plausible.  
“How’d you meet Niall?”  
“Ummm, we met at freshman orientation, actually. He’s just been one of those best friends that sticks around like glue, y’know?” Louis felt a gigantic bee sting his chest at that comment. Guilt started oozing its way out of Louis as he realized he wasn’t a best friend that stuck like glue to Harry; he wished he was, though. He certainly wished he could’ve been that best friend. Louis used to wonder if he had been replaced in Harry’s life, and Niall certainly seemed to play the role of ‘best friend’ now. He found himself envious of Niall for getting to spend the past sixteen years with this wonderful person. “I’m sure that, like, it partially has to do with the fact that we’ve gone through this entire…college, work, life thing together for so long, but still. He’s a great guy.” As envious as Louis was of Niall, he was also a tad bit grateful that Harry had him in his life. Louis wanted to know more about Niall if he was so important in Harry’s life.  
“Cool…he dragged you to parties?”  
“Yeah. And clubs…and bars. He actually got me a fake ID when we were nineteen.” Louis called it that Niall partied in college.  
“You couldn’t be a loser if you were friends with a guy like that.”  
“I wasn’t actually that lame. I had fun; I’m sure you did the same.”  
“I didn’t have a fake ID, though.”  
“Doesn’t mean you didn’t have fun.” Sure, Louis had fun. Hell, he was usually the life of the party in college; he bounced around from person to person, sang at the top of his lungs, danced on tables, and was no stranger to beer pong or a mosh pit. Wherever he went, fun and chaos followed. Yes, he drank and smoked, but it wasn’t always just for fun. Louis really began to use it as a way to hide and forget during his first year of college. That reason for using drugs and alcohol still continued after they graduated; although, it happened less frequently after Liam and Zayn voiced their concern when he was twenty-five.  
“I guess…but anyway. Why are you starting your own practice?”  
“Ummm, well I guess we just decided that it was something we wanted to do and would be good at doing.”  
“You and Niall?”  
“Yeah. I wouldn’t have suspected it back in school: I thought I would always stay at CHOP. And I definitely didn’t think it would be with him. Niall’s always been the carefree one who works really hard but has fun doing it…I really don’t understand how he manages to go about life like that.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“It’s just…I dunno. It’s kinda hard, sometimes. Like, we deal with sick kids and their families, and sometimes you can’t help them. Niall just manages to not let it get to him, I guess, but he still genuinely cares for people. I dunno. I’ve always had a hard time dealing with it.”  
“Oh…that’s…that must be horrible, sometimes.”  
“Yeah…”  
“Why’d you go into pediatrics?”  
“I guess…ummm, when I help a sick kid and actually get to see them get better. It’s just…it’s really satisfying. And kids like…they have so much hope. Blind hope, maybe, but it’s still hope. I mean, I try not to get so emotionally attached, but I can’t really help it. Which is great sometimes, because I start to see the kids as like, my extended family or something. But it kinda sucks sometimes…if like…yeah.” Harry solemnly chuckled to himself as he looked down at his apple juice. Louis’ heart was threatening to jump out of his chest and give itself over to Harry right then and there. He wanted to pull Harry into another hug and tell him ‘I’m sorry for all the shit I put you through’. But that would be difficult to do over the table.  
“Sorry.”  
“Nothing to be sorry for; there’s nothing I can do about it…which I guess is the problem.” Harry sighed and stirred the straw around in his drink. “It is what it is.”  
“C’est la vie.” Harry looked back up at Louis.  
“You do use your French on occasion.”  
“Some things sound better in French.”  
“Yes they do.” Louis noticed Harry’s eyes briefly flick down to observe Louis’ face.  
“So…how’s the family?”  
“Oh, ummm, good. Yeah, they’re good. My Dad actually retired last November.”  
“Good for him! He’s been working for quite a long time, hasn’t he?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Whatever happened with him and, ummm, shit, what was her name…”  
“Rita?”  
“Yeah, Rita.”  
“They got married, and are now happily living in Raleigh out of all places.”  
“North Carolina?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Interesting retirement location.”  
“I told him he should’ve bought a house in the Bahamas.”  
“Damn, you missed out on that opportunity.”  
“Don’t remind me.”  
“How’s your Mom and Robin?”  
“They’re good too. Still living in Albany.”  
“Gemma’s how old now?”  
“She’s sixteen turning seventeen this year.”  
“Wow, that’s insane.”  
“Tell me about it. I feel so old.”  
“You feel so old? I have a niece.” Harry’s eyes shot open and his jaw dropped.  
“Lottie has a kid!”  
“Yep.”  
“Little Lottie?”  
“She’s not so little anymore: she’s thirty.”  
“Woah.”  
“Yeah; she got married four years ago and had a kid a year and a half afterwards.”  
“Shit…how the hell did that happen?”  
“Well, I told her safe sex is great sex, but she didn’t listen.” Harry cackled.  
“I meant us getting so old, but I guess that works too. So you have a brother in law?”  
“Yeah, Joe. Well, Joseph, but he goes by Joe.”  
“Good man?”  
“Yeah, definitely. He’s like the classic boy next door; very polite, charming, knows how to joke around, a bit nerdy, but a genuine good guy. I knew that he was it from the first time that she brought him home for the holidays. He just immediately fit with her and our family, and I could sort of tell by the way he looked at her. Like, the respectful, loving way that you would want your little sister to be looked at.”  
“That’s…that’s great. I’m happy she found the right guy.”  
“Yeah, me too. His family is from Alabama and they all have accents. I’ve tried to imitate them before, but it always sounds shitty and they just end up making fun of me for it. But they’re seriously the model of Southern hospitality. They’re definitely some of the nicest people I’ve ever met.” Harry still looked like he was in shock, and Louis couldn’t help but giggle to himself at that.  
“That’s great…wow. How’d she meet him?”  
“College. They both went to Vanderbilt University and never left; they’re still living in Tennessee, they’re just raising a family now.”  
“Wow…I honestly never would’ve expected that, but that’s great. What’s your niece’s name?”  
“Abigail; we call her Abby. I have a picture of her on my phone…I can show it to you, if you want.”  
“Yeah, definitely.” Louis pulled his phone out of his pocket and found the picture he took of her from this past December: she was wearing a striped green and red dress, her thin blond hair flowing down, big blue eyes bright in Christmas wonder, and in the middle of saying “Cheese!” after Louis told her to. He handed his phone off to Harry, and a huge smile appeared on his face.  
“She’s precious, Lou. How old is she?”  
“Two and a half.”  
“Oh: the terrible twos?”  
“Better believe it. She’s a right menace to society.”  
“I mean, I wouldn’t wanna come within thirty feet of her.”  
“I try to keep a solid fifty feet away at all times. She’s like a tornado, but worse…she’s like…she’s the sharknado.” Harry let out a loud cackle and immediately covered his mouth with his right hand.  
“Did you see that movie?”  
“Of course! Keeping this between you and me, Zayn, Liam, and I watched it high. It was possibly one of the greatest decisions I’ve ever made in my entire life.”  
“Hey, that was a quality cable television movie.”  
“If by ‘quality’ you mean a movie that people can laugh their asses off at, then yes, it was quality.”  
“That’s exactly what I mean.”  
“Good.” Harry’s gaze shifted back down to Louis’ phone as he brought a finger up to it and began swiping the screen. “What’re you doing there, pal?”  
“M’just looking through your pictures.” Harry told him with a smug smile on his face.  
“Give it back, you nosey badger!” Harry waggled his eyebrows up and down as he giggled.  
“What, are you afraid I’m gonna find some provocative pictures on here?”  
“No, because I’ve locked up all of my nudes.” This got Harry’s attention as his head popped up.  
“What?”  
“I’m kidding.”  
“Oh…sorry. Yeah.” Harry shook his head to himself as he looked back down at Louis’ phone. Honestly, Louis wasn’t concerned about Harry looking through his pictures. They were all either pictures of his family, Zayn or Liam doing something stupid, interesting scenery, a construction site for one of the projects going on, and an occasional picture of himself making a weird face. Pictures could tell the story of someone’s life, though, and Louis really wanted to see Harry’s life.  
“Let’s at least make this fair by you giving me your phone.”  
“Nah.” He answered nonchalantly.  
“What? Why?”  
“Because.”  
“That’s not a reason.”  
“Yes it is.” Louis took this opportunity to spread his leg out under the table and tap Harry’s left foot with his right. He looked back up at Louis with a toothy grin, “Hey!” and then he proceeded to tap Louis’ right foot with his left.  
“I’m sorry, are we fifteen again?”  
“We’re always fifteen at heart.” Louis tapped Harry’s foot again.  
“You’re still that five year who lost his trunks in the ocean and took a shit in the grass.” The lighting of the room just added to the redness that took over Harry’s face. Louis began laughing, picturing the scene in his head while Harry tapped Louis’ foot.  
“Why do you remember that?”  
“Because it was hilarious back then, and it still is now.”  
“Speak for yourself.” Harry tapped Louis’ foot.  
“Two devil’s breakfasts with bacon.” A tall, blond man said before putting the two plates down on the table. Louis was just thankful Maria, or Marina, or whatever her name is, wasn’t there delivering the food. Harry handed Louis back his phone and Louis slid it into his pocket. “Enjoy.”  
“Thanks.” The two of them said at the same time. They smiled, looked, and pointed at each other while the guy walked away. Louis squinted his eyes before saying,  
“I have half the mind to say jinxs right now, but I’d feel bad for shutting you up.” Harry squinted his eyes mischievously, and then quickly declared,  
“Too bad, because I don’t: jinxs you owe me a soda!” Louis fondly rolled his eyes,  
“That’s not how – ”  
“I said jinx! Stop talking until you get me a soda!”  
“You can’t – ”  
“I said jinx!”  
“You’ve got to be kidding me ri– ”  
“Shhhhhhh.” Harry looked so enthusiastic and pleased with himself. Louis let out an exasperated sigh; he couldn’t believe he was about to give into this child’s commands. He stood up and quickly ran over to the blond man who’d just delivered their food, while hearing Harry trying to stifle his laughter while he watched. Louis tapped the guy on his back, and he turned around, looking horribly confused as to why Louis was there.  
“Yes…?” He asked cautiously. Louis pressed his lips together, forcing himself not to talk. God, he felt like an idiot. But Harry was smiling and laughing and happy. So it was worth it. Louis pointed to himself multiple times. “You…” Louis nodded. Shit, he didn’t know how to motion ‘need’. Instead, he opted for holding his hand around an invisible glass and pouring it into his mouth. “A drink?” Louis frantically nodded again. “You want a drink?” Louis gave the man a thumb up. “Can you not talk or something?” Louis shook his head side to side. The guy looked a bit concerned and afraid. “Okay…what kind of drink?” Fuck, how the hell was he supposed to motion ‘soda’? Louis put both of his hands in front of him and shook them out to try and motion for a fizzling drink. He heard Harry in hysterics, and turned around to see him wiping tears from his eyes while his whole body roared with laughter. People were looking at him for laughing so loudly, but Harry didn’t seem to notice. “I have no idea what that means.” Louis turned back around to look at the guy, “do you want an alcoholic beverage?” He shook his head back and forth. “A soda?” Louis gave him two thumbs up. “What type?” Louis brought both of his hands up to his head and pulled them out, trying to motion ‘I have no idea’. “Ummm, is Coca-Cola okay?” Louis smiled and brought his hands together to gratefully bow to the guy. “Alright…I’ll get it to you in a minute.”  
When Louis turned around and walked back to their table, Harry was still laughing like a fucking hyena, his eyes shut, his laughter lines plunging into his face, and his jaw literally unhinging so he could properly get the sound out. Everybody in the restaurant glanced at them for a second or so to see what was going on. Louis was trying his best not to laugh at the situation.  
“You – ” Harry paused to inhale and laugh some more, “just fucking played – ” he laughed again, “charades– ” another laugh, “with the waiter.” He was wiping tears from his eyes and Louis was trying to hide his smile as best as possible. He decided to shake his head at Harry, which just made Harry bang his head on the table and laugh into it. Louis began eating his meal while waiting for the server to come back with the Coke, trying to act as normal as possible to any onlookers. Everyone must’ve thought they were insane. Harry’s breathing started to go back to normal after twenty more seconds and he locked eyes with Louis once again. “I can’t believe you actually did that.” Louis shrugged while swallowing a piece of toast. “That was officially the greatest thing that I’ve witnessed this entire year.” There was a part of Louis that felt like he’d accomplished something monumental when Harry said that, even if it wasn’t that monumental. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard Harry laugh like that, and it made Louis stupidly proud. So sue him: he was happy he’d just made Harry uncontrollably laugh in public. And Harry basically just said that he hadn’t seen anything better than Louis this entire year…even if that was only a month a two weeks.  
“Here’s your Coke.” The waiter quickly slid the beverage on the table and fled away as quickly as possible. Louis pushed the drink to Harry.  
“A soda?” Harry asked with a complacent smile, “How did you know I wanted a soda?”  
“Don’t look so satisfied with yourself.”  
“Wait: you talk?” Louis tapped Harry’s foot.  
“I hate you so much.”  
“Hate you too.” Harry tapped Louis’ foot and then they both dug into their food. It was kind of strange how quickly they fell back into being themselves. It was also reassuring, though, because no matter how much time they spent apart, or how much the circumstances surrounding their lives had changed, the way they acted around each other clearly hadn’t altered at all.  
That’s when Louis heard a phone start ringing.  
“Shit.” Harry said while reaching into his pocket. He pulled out his glowing phone, eyebrows furrowing when he read the screen, then looked up at Louis with remorseful eyes. “Is it okay if I get this?”  
“Yeah, go ahead.”  
“Thanks.” Harry unlocked his phone and brought it up to his ear, “Hi……I’m not there: I told you I was going out to lunch……I texted you…Yes I did…Louis.” Harry stuck his tongue out at Louis. Okay, so things Louis was gathering from this phone call: someone wanted to know where Harry was, and he told them he would be out getting lunch with Louis, so they knew who Louis was. Okay. Maybe this was Niall. “…Yeah…You literally could’ve scrolled up to see……Okay, okay, okay.” Harry’s cheeks flushed red. He looked back up at Louis. “…Okay, well that’s a problem because I’m not there…No, don’t wait outside, just go back to your apartment or something……” And then Harry shifted in his seat and looked away from Louis. “Michael, seriously? Not now.” Alright, so this wasn’t Niall. This was Michael. A guy named Michael who was saying stuff that made Harry blush. Why was he blushing? “I’ll call you later today, okay? Okay…Yep……okay…bye.” He ended the call and put the phone back in his pocket. “Sorry.”  
“It’s fine.”  
“Do you ever feel like as many times as you tell someone something, it still goes in one ear and right out the other?”  
“Ummm…sometimes, yeah.” Harry nodded, and then focused his attention on eating the plate of food in front of him. Louis needed to know. “Who was that?”  
“Oh, ummm…” Harry swallowed what he was chewing. “That was my – ummm, Michael.”  
“Your Michael?”  
“Ummm…yeah, he’s uh – ” Harry paused and bit his bottom lip, “he’s my boyfriend.”  
Oh.  
Boyfriend.  
Wait. What?  
Boyfriend?  
“Boyfriend?”  
“Yeah…” Harry said sheepishly while looking down at his plate. His fork was swirling around the eggs. Louis felt like he was light-headed, on top of the Comcast building, standing on one foot, and his unbalanced body swaying in the wind. Somebody walked up behind Louis, and pushed his body forwards. His mind, heart, stomach, and body were all plunging down fifty-eight stories and gaining speed of more than a hundred miles per hour; he hit the pavement like a meteor and shattered into a million pieces.  
Harry had a boyfriend.  
“Wow, that’s…” Horrible. Absolutely, positively, utterly, completely, catastrophically, horrendously horrible. “…great.” His organs were rearranging themselves. It was a good thing that they were sitting down, because Louis’ legs felt limp.  
“Yeah?” No.  
“Yeah.”  
Holy fuck: was this the guy with the heart next to his name?  
Calm down. Breathe. Relax.  
Maybe they were only together for a short amount of time and things weren’t that serious.  
“How, uhh, how long have you two been together?”  
“Ummm, it’ll be two years this April.”  
Holy fuck: two years?  
That’s a shit ton of time. Fuck.  
They must be serious.  
Fuck: Harry was serious with another guy.  
Michael.  
Fucking Michael.  
Fucking fucker fuckery fucknuggets!  
Calm down. Breathe. Relax.  
“Wow…that’s…ummm, a while.”  
“Yeah.”  
It seemed like in this past minute, all of Louis’ dreams, hopes, and ambitions relating to Harry were crushed by a monsoon. His entire body felt like it was being smashed deep down into the ground by a giant hammer. It was like whack-a-mole; he was the mole, and the World was the hammer. Louis’ hopes were the city of Atlantis: sunk deep within the ocean in a single day and night of misfortune. Except his Atlantis only took a minute to sink to the bottom of the ocean floor.  
Fucking great.  
Did he even have the right to react this way?  
What exactly did he expect would’ve happened with Harry in the first place? That someone wouldn’t have snatched him up? That he hadn’t been with anyone since Louis? That he still harbored feelings for Louis? Maybe he was a fool for thinking about those childish fantasies in the first place.  
“You umm…he’s a good guy?” Louis didn’t even realize he was asking the question until after it came out of his mouth.  
“Yeah, yeah…” Harry looked at Louis with mournful eyes. Fuck, was Louis really that much of a loss cause that Harry had to look at him like that? “Sorry, is this, like…weird to talk about?”  
Now it fucking is. But of course Harry would feel the need to check.  
“No, no, it’s…that’s great, Harry. Really. I’m, uhh – ” Louis’ throat clenched shut for a moment, as if it didn’t want him to say the words, “happy for you.” Because fuck, Louis wasn’t happy for Harry; Louis was happy with Harry.  
“Thanks…do, ummm…do you have, like…a girlfriend, or whatever?” Harry asked cautiously. Louis dolefully laughed to himself, because the way that Harry asked the question made Louis feel like he fucked up so horribly when they were younger; Harry didn’t even think that Louis could have a boyfriend. Well, maybe he did, but it was referred to as ‘whatever’ and not ‘boyfriend’ and it certainly came after ‘girlfriend’. Louis needed to explain things to Harry, just…not now. This wasn’t the right time.  
“No.”  
“Oh…well, I’m sure you’ll find someone…I mean…you’re Louis Tomlinson.” That was the problem, though, wasn’t it? The problem was that he was Louis Tomlinson. The problem was that Louis Tomlinson had looked and tried in the past, but couldn’t find anybody else whom he fell in love with. The problem was what should Louis Tomlinson do if he already found someone, lost them, and found them again years later, only to find out that they were discovered by someone else? What happens then? What could possibly happen then? Nothing. Because he was Louis Tomlinson and he was too late.  
He was always too fucking late.  
“Yeah.” Louis didn’t know how to pick up the conversation from there. Apparently, neither did Harry, so they ate the rest of their food in silence.  
Edgar Allen Poe was right: there are moments when even to the sober eye of reason, the world of our sad humanity may assume the semblance of Hell.

 

“We should do this again sometime.” Harry suggested when they walked outside.  
“Yeah, that’d be…sure.”  
“Okay…ummm…” Harry held out his arms and pulled Louis into a hug. It wasn’t nearly as comforting as the one from earlier today. The cold wind nipped at Louis’ ears, whispering into them ‘he’s not yours: he was never yours’. Louis tried not to hold on too tightly; this wasn’t his Harry. “It was great seeing you.” Harry muttered into his ear. It was too much. He couldn’t take it; Louis pulled away from the embrace, eyes prickling from the dry air, and heart pounding in his thorat. When he looked back up at Harry’s face, he noticed Harry looked uneasy while he observed Louis’ face. Louis tried to smile, but his face muscles wouldn’t allow him to do it. Harry’s eyes were asking his own so many questions, and Louis couldn’t keep up with them. He had to briefly glance down at the ground.  
“Yeah, you too.”  
“Okay. Well, ummm, we’ll text?” Harry bit his bottom lip. Louis no longer thought it was endearing; he just wanted to pull it out of Harry’s mouth and tell him to stop fucking doing that because there was no reason to be nervous and he was just Louis and he couldn’t stand it when Harry looked so fucking tempting and innocent and beautiful and this wasn’t fucking fair.  
“Mhmm.”  
“Alright…I’ll see you later then?”  
“Yeah, see you.” Louis made himself wave, which Harry returned with a downcast smile, and forced himself to turn his back to Harry and walk away. The command was easier given than executed because of Harry’s big, fucking, stupid, green, doe-eyes and the pout threatening to break out on his face. Louis pulled out his phone and opened his group chat with Liam and Zayn.

To Liam and Zayn: So Harry has a boyfriend.

From Liam: What?!?! 

From Zayn: Sorry man. I say we kill him

From Liam: The bf, or Harry?

From Zayn: Whtevr Lou wants

To Liam and Zayn: We’re not gonna kill anyone 

From Zayn: Fine…so now wht?

To Liam and Zayn: I have no idea.

From Liam: As Michael Scott once said, engaged isn’t married

To Liam and Zayn: They’re not engaged

From Liam: Well dating isn’t married

From Zayn: Swoop in n get dat ass

To Liam and Zayn: Stoppppp :/ this isn’t tv, this is real life

From Zayn: Well, wht do u wanna do?

To Liam and Zayn: No clue

From Liam: You can be friends with him again

To Liam and Zayn: Our version of friends wasn’t normal…the sexual tension is gonna be through the roof

From Liam: Yeah, and it’s bound to explode at some point so you might as well. Do you want to be with him?

To Liam and Zayn: I mean, he has a bf so that option is off of the table

From Liam: Can you see yourself with him in the future?

To Liam and Zayn: Ummmmmm

From Zayn: Yes he can

From Liam: So be his friend, show him that you’re better than his current boytoy, and then get married. Simple as pie.

To Liam and Zayn: The phrase is easy as pie and I’m pretty sure life doesn’t work like that.

From Liam: I’m not saying its gonna be easy, though. I’m saying the concept is simple, the procedure just might take some time. And who’s to say life doesn’t work like that? Now go make your pie.

From Zayn: Ur cumkin pie


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!!! This update got done much quicker than the last, so yay for productivity!!!
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy it!!! I'd love to hear your feedback :)

Louis wasn’t constantly trying to think about Harry; it just kept happening like some type of subconscious addiction. Usually, without even realizing he was doing it, he would relive the past two times he saw Harry. He would imagine Harry’s sharply curved face, his strong and slender body, his warm smile, his shining eyes, his hyena’s laugh, his molasses voice, his perfect embrace, and his plump lips. But of course, those would all lead down the path of thinking about the past: what his face used to look like, what he used to use body for, his charming smile, his deep green eyes that penetrated their way into Louis’ soul, his loud cackles whenever he thought Louis did something hilarious, his voice when it whispered praises of satisfaction, the way their bodies lined up together when they fell asleep, and what he used to do with those fantastic lips…those were seriously an almost unseen species of lips. When Louis became aware that this was the pasture his mind wandered to, he’d have to continuously remind himself to stop: this wasn’t his Harry. He laid no claim over Harry. Maybe when they were teenagers, the situation was different. Maybe some things hadn’t changed, but this was adult Harry.  
And adult Harry was dating adult Michael.  
Fucking Michael: what a generic name.  
Who the fuck was Michael anyway? How did they meet? What’s his job? Does he work with Harry? How old is he? What does he look like? Is he some attractive guy with beautiful hair and deep eyes and a six-pack? Is he a model? Is he some fit, athletic buff? Is he funny? Is he nice? Is he kind and considerate to Harry? Is Harry his first priority? Is he Harry’s first priority? Does he take Harry out on dates? Does he hold Harry’s hand in public? Does he keep Harry warm at night? Does he treat Harry like Harry deserves to be treated?  
Does he love Harry?  
Are they in love?  
Louis wished more than anything in the World right now that they weren’t in love. He didn’t even want to imagine it. His Harry in love with someone else? It wasn’t fathomable. It wasn’t right.  
Fucking Michael.  
Could Louis even compete with a stupid guy named Michael?

 

“No.”  
“What? Why?”  
“I think she’s hot.”  
“Thank you, Liam.”  
“Are you both out of your minds right now? We created a rule when we started this that office relationships weren’t gonna be okay. Now you’re suddenly overturning it because you think Perrie’s hot?”  
“I’m not overturning it, I’m just…not following it.”  
“This isn’t smart.” Zayn huffed out a breath of smoke and rolled his eyes at Louis. Why did he always look so calm and unconcerned? Why was he seriously asking for his and Liam’s opinion on Perrie? This would only end badly for everyone involved. Sure, Perrie was a fantastic, good-humored, caring woman, and although she was probably a great match for Zayn, it didn’t change the fact that she worked for them. This was quite the way to start off a Monday morning.  
“You’re overreacting.”  
“No I’m not, because what happens if it doesn’t work out, creates tension in the office, affects the way both of you work together, and she decides to leave?”  
“Wow; your optimism is through the roof.”  
“I’m just laying out the worst possible outcome because that’s what we’ve been trying to prevent for seven years.”  
“He does have a point.” Liam added in; thankfully he could see the light. “If you were to pursue a relationship with her, it would put a lot of things in jeopardy.” Zayn sighed and sunk down into his chair,  
“I’ve been working with her for three years now. I think it’s safe to say that we have a solid relationship. If things didn’t work out, we could still be friends and nothing would really change.” Of course he would try to think that way; everything would end up in sunshine and rainbows and happiness, even if they didn’t end up the way Zayn wanted them to. That was the best possible outcome if things ended badly.  
Louis wasn’t a friend to the best possible outcome.  
“This is a bad idea, Zayn.”  
“Do you like her?” Liam asked. Zayn paused, took a drag, and carefully surveyed his eyes over the cigarette smoke drifting up into the air.  
“I mean, yeah.”  
“Do you like her, or do you wanna fuck her?” The clarification question needed to be asked, and Louis knew that Liam wouldn’t be the one to put it forward.  
“Loui – ”  
“Just answer.”  
“Hear me out on this, okay? I like her, and not just for her body. Yeah, she’s really hot, but her personality too: it’s sexy. And I can tell that she’s attracted to me.”  
“Okay, so you like and wanna fuck her. Do you want to risk your professional relationship with her for this?”  
“I think…yeah.” Louis rolled his eyes.  
“No, you don’t.”  
“You have to at least notice that we’re a good fit for each other.”  
“Still – ”  
“We wouldn’t be debating this if she didn’t work here.”  
“But she does. And she works below you.” Zayn smirked and Liam softly giggled. Fucking amateurs, “I heard it when I said it; we don’t need to add onto it.”  
“Okay, fine. But, I don’t know, I think something with her could like…last.”  
“Last…?” Liam inquired. What the hell was Zayn talking about?  
“Well, yeah. I want a lasting relationship. And I’ve been thinking about, like…settling down.” Oh.  
So that’s what Zayn was talking about.  
Settling down: like a home…and a wife…and a pet…and kids…  
Wait…Zayn? Was this seriously coming out of Zayn’s mouth?  
Since when the fuck did Zayn want this?  
“Wait, what?”  
“Lou, we’re all thirty-four now. We’ve spent the past – ” He waved his right hand around in the air, causing a spiral of cigarette smoke to fly upwards, “however many years focusing on work, and this firm, and we’re doing good. We’re finally where we want to be, doing what we want to do in our careers that maybe…well, I’ve been thinking.”  
“About what?” He asked incredulously. Was this seriously the Zayn that Louis knew? This seemed like it was coming from nowhere. Zayn leaned forward and pushed his cigarette bud into the ashtray.  
“I want the whole package. I have a stable career and income now, that I think I’m ready for a stable relationship. I want somebody to come home to, somebody to eat dinner with every night, just somebody to lie on the couch and watch crappy television shows with. Someday in the future, I want kids; I want a family…I want to start settling down. You understand that, don’t you?” Understand? Louis understood why some people would want that, but Zayn? Since when was it that Zayn wanted this? It’s not like Louis pictured Zayn single for his entire life, it was just…he was adding in another person now. Right now. And Liam had Danielle now, so did he want to settle down too? When did this all start happening? Why was it happening now?  
“I, ummm…yeah. I mean, I get it. I just…now?” Zayn chuckled to himself.  
“Well, yeah. Time isn’t exactly of the essence like it used to be.” Like it used to be? Did time change?  
“What? Yes it is; time is time.”  
“No it’s not. Time is going to keep going, and we’re just going to keep getting older.” He was talking about their lives like they didn’t have much time left. They’re thirty-four, that’s not old…is it? They weren’t over the hill yet, so why was there a sudden rush to ‘settle down’?  
“Well…fuck, Zayn…I don’t…I mean…” Louis huffed out a large breath and leaned back into his chair. He was honestly speechless. There was really nothing else he could say. When it became apparent to the both of them that Louis was done talking, Liam asked,  
“You think Perrie’s the girl?”  
“How am I supposed to know if I don’t try?”  
“Fair enough.”  
“Don’t you want that too?”  
“What?”  
“Settling down, being in a committed relationship…”  
“Well…yeah. I mean, I can see things lasting with Danielle, so I’ve been thinking about it more and more.” Wait, now Liam was officially on this wagon? Great.  
“See? You get where I’m coming from, so can we just allow this? Just once?”  
“I mean…this is what you want?”  
“Yeah…yeah, I think it is.”  
“You think?”  
“No, I – I know it’s what I want.”  
“Well…I’m not going to deprive you of your future, so I say yes.” Yes? Liam just agreed to this? Liam just approved of Zayn getting married and having kids. Those were such…adult things: having and raising a family. Since when did they get so old? Granted, Lottie was married and had a daughter, but Louis always saw that as her future. Liam and Zayn, however…well, he never saw them like this before. He knew it would happen one day, but weren’t they still the three friends living out their lives together?  
Apparently not anymore.  
“Lou?” He didn’t know that he zoned out until Zayn said his name. Louis looked at Zayn; he had on optimistic, pleading eyes and a slight smile. And fuck: who was he to deprive Zayn of his dreams? He couldn’t. He just couldn’t. This was how Zayn saw himself in the future. This was how Zayn saw himself being happy. As much as Louis didn’t expect this day to come at least for another few years, he did want the best for Zayn. He was one of Louis’ best friends, and best friends look out for and support each other. So now, Louis would just have to look out for Zayn…differently.  
“All I have to say is that this office better not turn into a fucking orgy.”  
“So…yes?” Louis chuckled to himself and nodded.  
“Yeah.” Zayn’s face broke out into a huge grin.  
“Thank you, guys. Seriously, thank you.”  
“When were you going to ask her out?” Liam asked.  
“This Friday, probably.”  
“You know that Friday is Valentine’s Day, don’t you?”  
“Oh…shit, really?”  
“Yeah. You seriously want to do that?”  
The two of them continued to talk about when and where Zayn should take Perrie out to, while Louis silently sat in his chair. Zayn and Liam both wanted to ‘settle down’. When the fuck did this happen? Liam was on his way to a committed relationship with Danielle, and Zayn wanted to start one with Perrie. They were no longer going to be the three single guys who could go out to bars and have fun. Soon they’d be going out to fancy restaurants on fancy double dates in fancy clothes with their girlfriends. They would find and share their happiness with other people. Which was great. That was the goal of life: to be happy. Wasn’t it?  
But Louis couldn’t join in; he was still alone. The two of them were moving forward, and Louis was stuck in the same place.  
Well then.  
Fuck.

 

Zayn asked Perrie out the next day for a Valentine’s Day date. She said yes. Which, again, was great. Really. It was just that…well, this was actually happening now. Zayn and Liam were going to move on to the next stage of their life, which they deemed to be the serious-relationship-someday-turned-into-marriage-and-family stage. Which was great for them. But Louis was suddenly alone in his focusing-on-work-enjoying-bachelorhood stage. And he should’ve been okay with that, because it was what he wanted…or at least, what he wanted at one point. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something about his life felt incomplete. He had his own business, a good income, a nice apartment, and great friends. But maybe Zayn was right about this whole ‘sharing your life with someone else’ thing. And maybe Louis wanted more now.  
Sure, Louis thought about settling down in the past, but his version was much different. When he discovered his second year at Syracuse that he was definitely gay, things kind of flipped onto their head. His version of family was no longer the white picket-fence house, a good-paying job with a dog, two kids, and a loving wife; instead, it was an apartment, a good-paying job, possibly a cat or something, maybe an adopted kid or surrogate mother down the road, and a loving boyfriend. It wasn’t that Louis didn’t want his version of ‘settling down’; in fact, he wanted it a lot. Louis wanted somebody to come home to, to eat dinner with, to watch crappy television with, to fold into at night, and somebody to unconditionally love. He never pursued anything really serious before because he felt like he was physically incapable for one main reason: his parents’ reaction. They would think that Louis was sick; he needed to ‘find God to be able to cure this disease’, and his Dad would probably not talk to him again until he was ‘cured’…which really meant that they would never talk again. They were his parents, and no matter how much he could despise their beliefs at times, he still loved them. He couldn’t risk losing his relationship with them, so he never told them that he was gay. Yes, maybe this classified him as one of the World’s biggest cowards, but it wasn’t like had a ton of other options.  
The other reason that he didn’t pursue anything serious before was because there was no one he could see himself with ten years down the road. Since he discovered he was gay, he found no one that fit with him the way a soul mate is supposed to fit. There was no one really worth fighting for. And in every single one of his past relationships, he found no one that made him nearly as happy as Harry did when they were in High School. He never had a bond with anyone that even came close to his and Harry’s, which was really fucking frustrating. That was High School and things were different back then. He should’ve forgotten it and left it in the past, but he couldn’t.  
And now Harry was back, and every time Louis was with him or thought about him, he was happy. Nobody in the past even compared to Harry, because he was Harry. It was always Harry and Louis, and Louis and Harry, and there was no more use in trying to build up a relationship that was stronger than what they had because that didn’t exist. Even though so many years had passed and they weren’t in a relationship, when he was with Harry, Louis felt the way people only ever describe in sappy movies or fairytales. It felt like everything fit. It felt like magnets coming together, or a boomerang coming back to its owner. And maybe things weren’t like they were in the past, but they were certainly heading in that direction in Louis’ mind. He didn’t want to fuck it up this time because he couldn’t afford to lose Harry again. He’d waited sixteen years for this, and Goddamn it if everything wasn’t perfect.  
Except Harry was dating fucking Michael. So things weren’t perfect.  
While Zayn and Liam were free to move forward, Louis was stuck.  
And that seriously made him feel like shit.

 

The next morning, Louis was writing out an email at his desk when he heard his phone vibrate. He pulled it out and his stomach swooped when he saw that Harry texted him. This was a bit more than unexpected. Harry definitely knew that Louis was at work.

From Harry: Hiii, what’s up?

They hadn’t talked since Sunday, and it was kind of weird that Harry decided to text him this morning. Louis didn’t contact Harry because ‘he’s not mine, he’s not mine, he’s not mine’ was the chant that continuously pounded on his brain. He almost did it twice, but he stopped himself because if he tried to pursue anything…well, Harry was dating fucking Michael. But still, Harry was texting him, which meant that Harry was thinking about Louis and wanted to talk to him. And Louis was perfectly okay with that.

To Harry: At work, and yourself?

From Harry: I woke up craving Chinese food.

This was why Harry was texting him? Really?

To Harry: Then go get Chinese food haha

From Harry: How long is your lunch break?

To Harry: I usually take it from 11:30-12:30

From Harry: Wanna go get Chinese food?

Did Harry just ask him out to lunch? Was this real life?

To Harry: Today?

From Harry: Yeah hahah

So Harry had the day off, and he wanted to go out and get lunch with Louis…what about Michael? Not that this wasn’t fine with Louis at all; this was more than fine with him. Every rational thought in Louis’ body told him not to do it; if he did, he was only asking to be sucked into the Harry vortex. But every other cell in his body told him,‘HARRY IS ASKING YOU OUT TO LUNCH: SAY YES YOU IDIOT’.  
Rational thought had no chance.

To Harry: Sure, where/when did you wanna meet?

From Harry: I’ll be outside your office building at 11:30?

To Harry: Yeah, sounds good

From Harry: Okie dokes. See you then! (: 

How was it that even through text, Harry managed to make Louis’ heart skip a beat? Damn it: Louis was so screwed over.

To Harry: See you soon! 

 

“Will you be onsite at all times to oversee the progress of the job?”  
“Yes, of course; I’ll be working as the project manager.”  
“Alright, great, and you’ll provide me with daily updates?”  
“Yeah, we can do that.”  
“Okay.”  
“Lou?” He didn’t need to look up from his notepad to know that Leigh-Anne was standing in the doorway. He held up his index finger to her, signaling ‘one minute’, and continued taking notes.  
“Do you have a list of references I could contact?”  
“Sure. Do you want me to list them off now – ”  
“Harry’s here.” Those two words temporarily brought Louis out of his phone conversation with a potential contractor as he looked up and saw a smiling Harry standing next to Leigh-Anne, waving his hand at Louis. Why was he here? He was supposed to wait outside. Harry looked like he'd been frozen in an ice block with his white face and his bright red nose. It was like he was an outline for a drawing book, and a little kid forgot to color in everything but his nose; Louis couldn’t help but smile at that.  
“ – or should I email you?” Wow, Harry easily distracted him. This wasn’t good. He looked back down at his pad and tried to shake himself out of it.  
“Ummm, can you email me?”  
“Yeah, sure. What’s your address?”  
“It’s ltomlinson@legohouse.org, that’s l-t-o-” as he spelled out the address, he looked back up to find Harry walking into his office, not minding that Louis was on the phone, with his hands rubbing themselves together and his eyes curiously examining every corner of his office. Damn it, he knew he should’ve cleaned up. There were papers laying around everywhere.  
“Alright, I’ll send those to you right away.”  
“Thanks! I’ll be in contact with you soon.”  
“Alright. Bye for now.”  
“Bye.” Barely a beat went by when Louis put down the phone receiver before Harry said,  
“Sorry. I was waiting outside, but it was really cold.” He was wearing the same black coat and dull grey beanie, this time with tight black skinny jeans and brown leather boots. Wow, his legs looked phenomenal. They stretched out for miles and had a bit of a muscular bulk to them. Fuck, Louis shouldn’t be looking at his legs.  
“No, no, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Louis glanced at the clock: it was 11:23. “Why are you so early?” Harry shrugged.  
“The SEPTA schedule, mainly.”  
“How long were you out there for?”  
“Well…ummm, in between walking from the bus station and waiting outside it was, like, fifteen minutes or so.”  
“You should’ve just called me when you got here; you could’ve come in sooner.”  
“I called you, like, five minutes ago.”  
“Shit, really?” Louis opened his desk drawer and the banner on his phone was ‘1 missed call’.  
“It’s fine. I figured you were busy.”  
“I’m sorry. I was on the phone with a contractor.”  
“No, it’s okay. Sorry I kinda walked in.” Harry still apologized for stupid things.  
“Nothing to worry about.” Louis assured him. Harry nodded and slowly executed a 360-degree turn while Louis sat in his desk and watched him. He stood up so straight, but his walk was a bit flimsy, like he wasn’t sure if the next step he took was in the right direction or not. Maybe Harry didn’t change as much as Louis thought. “Your office is nice.”  
“Thanks; I promise it looks better when it’s not this messy.”  
“I wasn’t gonna bring up the messy part.”  
“Well, cat’s out of the bag now.” Harry softly giggled,  
“If it makes you feel any better, it doesn’t even come close to your old bedroom.”  
“Oh c’mon; my bedroom wasn’t that messy.”  
“Every time I walked in there it was like navigating my way through a maze of dirty clothes on the floor.” Harry said with a grin on his face.  
“You never complained.”  
“It wasn’t really on the top of my list of priorities at the time.” And that phrase made Louis’ stomach churn. What time was he talking about? And what were his priorities? Was Louis on that list? Harry seemed to immediately stiffen up after he said that, biting his bottom lip like he regretted saying it. Louis tried not to over think it.  
“Yeah, well…lemme just grab my coat and we can get out of here.”  
“M’kay.” It seemed like Louis couldn’t have picked a better time to get up, because as soon as he did, he saw Liam walking by his office, looking confused as hell. He mouthed ‘What’s going on?’ and Louis tried to quickly wave him off. Harry chose the exact moment to turn around and see what Louis was looking at. “Hi Liam.”  
“Hey, Harry…” Liam glanced at Louis, “how’re you doing?”  
“Good, thanks. You?” Louis dashed over to his coat rack and threw on his jacket.  
“M’good.”  
“Good, good…”  
“Okay, well we’re off.” Louis announced before putting his hand on Harry’s back to guide him forward. Harry didn’t even flinch at the gesture; he melted into the touch and let Louis lead him out of the office door. It seemed like he never hesitated to trust Louis, always following his lead.  
“Off to where?”  
“Lunch. We’ll see you in a bit, okay?”  
“Okay…”  
“Bye Liam.” Harry said with a smile as they quickly brushed past him and made their way out of the firm before anyone else could ask any questions. Everyone saw them leave together, though, so Louis was sure he’d get hell for it later on.

 

“So, how’d you guys get started?” Harry was using his chopsticks to shovel the lo-mien he ordered into his mouth. He clearly still didn’t understand how chopsticks worked. They decided to go to a Chinese place a few blocks away from the firm, and had literally been talking ever since Harry walked into his office. This was definitely not what Louis planned on doing when he woke up this morning, but he liked it nonetheless.  
“Lego House?”  
“Mhmm.”  
“Oh, umm, well we bought the space seven years ago. We took out a bank loan and Zayn’s family chipped in a bit – ”  
“They chipped in?”  
“Yeah, just here and there, really whenever we needed a boost.”  
“Mmm, okay.”  
“Yeah. It started out with just the three of us, actually. We did really small projects – ”  
“Like what?” Louis chuckled to himself: Harry was like a curious little kid who wanted to know how the World worked.  
“Well…like, our first project was a house renovation right outside of center city. We got more and more of those projects, so we started hiring new people. Then we moved onto bigger projects, like some townhouses, a small bookstore, a bank, a pub, an apartment duplex, and now you guys.”  
“That’s it?”  
“What d’you mean, that’s it?”  
“Those are all of the projects you’ve done in the past seven years?”  
“Well no, that’s just the brief overview of it all.”  
“I can’t get the full overview?”  
“I didn’t think you would wanna hear it.”  
“Why not?” Harry’s brows furrowed. He looked concerned for some reason, which only made Louis laugh.  
“It’s kinda boring.”  
“How could it be boring?”  
“It’s just us taking on different projects and hiring more and more people for seven years, and one day we got featured in the Inquirer.” Harry slowly nodded.  
“Interesting.”  
“So much so.” Harry playfully rolled his eyes tapped Louis’ foot under the table. Louis retaliated by tapping Harry’s foot. Harry then proceeded to try and scoop up more lo-mien with his chopsticks to no avail. Louis couldn’t take it anymore, “Watching you try to use chopsticks is making my brain cells commit suicide.” Harry smirked and looked up at Louis’ forehead.  
“Sorry brain cells.”  
“Apologize to me; I’m the one suffering here.”  
“What d’you want me to do?”  
“Well for starters, you can use them properly.”  
“I am using them properly.”  
“No you’re not. Look, I’ll teach you.” Harry’s eyes locked onto Louis’. The intensity of his pupils made Louis need to catch his breath and look down. “Okay, rest the first chopstick between your middle finger and thumb.” Harry followed Louis’ lead, but he was holding it at the top of the stick. “Move your fingers down lower.”  
“Lower?”  
“Yes.” Harry gingerly moved his fingers down. Fuck, Louis was about to have some really bad thoughts – “Now don’t move those two fingers. That stick isn’t supposed to move, okay?” Harry nodded. “Pick up the other stick and hold it with your index finger and thumb. This stick is the one that’s gonna do all the moving, so…try.” Harry moved the chopsticks back and forth. “Good. Now eat your food.” Apparently the concept was much easier done in the air than it was with actual food in the mix, because Harry still couldn’t pick up a solid heap of his lo-mien. “This is disgraceful. Here.” Louis pushed his plate of chicken and rice forward, “Try the chicken.”  
“Be the chicken.”  
“What?” Louis was seriously confused at that stupid comment. Harry laughed before reaching out and successfully grabbing a piece with his chopsticks. “Congratulations; you’re not a complete failure to ancient tradition!”  
“Whoo!” Harry was smiling while eating the piece of chicken. He pushed forward his bowl of lo-mien and motioned for Louis to eat it. So he did.  
“So what’ve you been up to since Sunday?”  
“A plethora of things.”  
“Like…?”  
“I tried pistachio gelato for the first time. ” Harry ate another piece of chicken, but this time Louis was focused on his mouth. There was stubble forming above his top lip and right below it. They were only subtle, brown hairs, but it looked so…naturally Harry. And fuck, his mouth opened up so fucking widely. Had it always opened up that widely? Was that seriously the same mouth that – no. Not going there. Bad thoughts. Louis cleared his throat and looked down at the food to try and get his attention off of this God who was sitting across from him.  
“That’s the plethora of things?”  
“It was a lot of gelato.”  
“Invigorating.” Harry giggled and tapped Louis foot.  
“I’ve also been thinking about getting a cat.”  
“Really?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Why?”  
“Dunno…I think it’d be nice to have a little feline buddy relaxing around my apartment all day. I kinda wanted a dog at one point, but my apartment isn’t big enough and I wouldn’t be there that often to take care of one.”  
“So you’re going with a cat because it’s okay if you neglect it for a bit?”  
“You’re twisting my words.”  
“Sort of…but that’s one of the reasons why I wanna cat instead of a dog.” Harry looked up at Louis with wide eyes and high eyebrows. Louis laughed at his face.  
“You wanna pet?”  
“Yes. Why do you keep acting so shocked about everything?”  
“You could barely keep your room out of contamination; how are you gonna make sure the cat doesn’t get lost?”  
“My apartment isn’t a fucking labyrinth.”  
“I haven’t seen it, so I can’t confirm that.”  
“Has the cleanliness of my living spaces suddenly moved up to the top of your list of priorities?”  
“Not the top – ”  
“But it’s on there?”  
“I mean, sure, why not?”  
“Wow. Your life must be really uneventful.”  
“You can’t be living in a landfill.”  
“I’m not living in a landfill.”  
“I don’t know this.”  
“Oh my God, do you wanna come over, survey, and clean my apartment?” He asked sarcastically. Louis tapped Harry’s foot and continued to eat the lo-mien.  
“I wouldn’t mind that.”  
“You’re ridiculous.”  
“Maybe…” He paused for a second, “So…should I come over?” Louis looked up and met Harry’s eyes; they were emitting that damn light again.  
“Wait, you’re serious about this?”  
“Why wouldn’t I be…?” Louis cleared his throat.  
“I have to go back to work today.”  
“What about this Sunday?”  
“You’re making plans…to clean my apartment…this Sunday? Wow. I severely underestimated how little of a life you have.” Harry tapped Louis’ foot.  
“Don’t act like you have anything better to do.” Louis put down his chopsticks.  
“Okay, fine. Gimme your phone.” Harry’s eyes looked like that of a deer in headlights.  
“Why?”  
“So I can put in my address.”  
“You can just text it to me.”  
“Either way it’ll just end up on your phone, so gimme.”  
“Just text me.” Louis rolled his eyes.  
“What don’t you want me to see?”  
“Nothing…I just…fine.” Harry reluctantly unlocked his phone and handed it across the table to Louis. His eyes immediately darted down to the picture on the home screen: it was a picture of Harry’s face pressed up against another guy’s. He had dark blond hair that was splayed out all over his head, a circular face shape, hair growing along his chin and above his upper lip, thick brown eyebrows, and dull blue eyes. Louis’ stomach sank down like an anchor into the ocean.  
“Is this – ”  
“Yeah.” He nodded. Louis tried to stay as stone faced as possible and make it look like the picture didn’t affect him at all, even if his heart felt like solid marble being chiseled into dust.  
“Cool.” They looked horrible together. Their faces didn’t even compliment each other. Michael didn’t look like a male model or a gym buff, he was just…a normal guy on the street. Louis wasn’t sure if that fact made the hurt sting less or more. He quickly added in his address and handed Harry’s phone back to him.  
“Can I have your phone?”  
“Why?”  
“So I can put my address in.” Weird, yes, but Louis wasn’t going to say no. Did Harry expect Louis to come over to his apartment at some point in the future?  
“Oh, ummm, yeah sure.” Louis handed Harry his phone and shoved some chicken into his mouth. He heard Harry giggle to himself, so he looked up and saw a small smile on Harry’s face. “What?”  
“Nothing.” Louis tilted his head to the side.  
“What?”  
“Nothing.” Harry handed Louis back his phone.  
“I think you’re lying to me.”  
“M’not lying to you.” He said with a dimpled grin and wide eyes.  
“You do realize that you’ve always been shitty at keeping secrets.”  
“You’ll just have to trust me.”  
“That may be one of the worst decisions I could make in my life.” Harry shrugged.  
“Guess you’ll just have to find out.”

 

Not even five minutes after Harry left Louis’ office to catch the bus, Zayn and Liam decided it would be a great time for an interrogation.  
“Well, isn’t this place nice and neat.” Liam said sarcastically as they sauntered into Louis office.  
“This is weird. You have to admit that this is weird.”  
“His bus wasn’t coming for another twenty minutes and he didn’t wanna have to wait outside.”  
“So you come back into your office and clean it together?” Liam asked.  
“I needed to sort out these papers anyway, and he wanted to.”  
“Is he your cleaning bitch now?”  
“No, Zayn. And I’d prefer it if you didn’t call him my bitch.”  
“Alright, alright, don’t get so defensive.”  
“I’m not being defensive, he’s – ”  
“Your pimp?” Louis glared at him.  
“No.”  
“Since when were you going out to lunch with him?” Liam sat down on one of the chairs across from Louis’ desk. Fuck, this better not be a long conversation.  
“He texted me this morning.”  
“And you just decided to go?”  
“It’d be like if you texted me one weekend morning and said ‘hey, lets go out to lunch’.”  
“Yes, but this is a weekday and you don’t want to have sex with me.” Louis jaw dropped open.  
“Liam!”  
“It’s the truth; you can’t deny it.” Why the fuck was this his life right now? This is exactly what he’d been trying to avoid thinking about. He could feel his face flushing up as the pulse in his cheeks became more prominent.  
“Well…I mean…I don’t – ”  
“Don’t say you don’t want to fuck him because that’d be bullshit.” Zayn said.  
“My relationship with him isn’t purely sexual, you know. I just wanna catch up with him and be friends with him again and do friend things and – ”  
“Fuck.” Zayn interrupted, “You want to fuck.” Louis put his elbows on his desk and hid his face in his hands. There was literally no use in arguing.  
“Not that this is my business or anything,” Liam began, “but why wasn’t he at lunch with his boyfriend?”  
“Didn’t ask.” He mumbled through his hands.  
“It’s just…kinda weird.”  
“I guess.”  
“It is.” Louis looked up out of his hands. Liam was in full on interrogation mode with his concerned face and fingers tapping the arm of the chair. Zayn was leaning on the other chair, looking a bit entertained at the scene.  
“We were always kinda like this.”  
“Like what?”  
“Just randomly doing stuff together without needing a reason to do it.”  
“No, no, no.” Zayn said, “You do it because you like him and want to be with him as much as possible. That’s why.” Which was…okay, it was a fair point. But still:  
“Isn’t it possible for two guys to just want to have fun together?”  
“Your definition of fun with him is much different than it is with us.”  
“Not true.” Louis felt his phone vibrate in his pocket; he pulled it out and hid it under his desk. Harry texted him saying ‘There’s an elderly guy on the bus who’s singing the wheels on the bus go round and round. I feel like I should be more concerned than amused right now, but it’s hilarious.’  
“Is that him?” Liam asked. Louis looked up at him and noticed Liam had on his condescending face, like he already knew it was Harry. Okay, the text made Louis smile: so sue him.  
“So what if it is? We’re just friends.”  
“Bullshit.” Zayn said while in the midst of a fake cough.  
“You know what, fine: I like him. But you two told me to go for it, so stop accusing me of wanting this like I committed a crime or something.” Liam sighed,  
“It’s just…you need to go about things like you still remember he has a boyfriend. You can’t just outwardly flirt with him.”  
“I wasn’t flirting – ”  
“Throwing paper clips at each other? That’s basic child’s play.”  
“We were just having fun.”  
“Likely story.” Zayn snorted out.  
“Be careful. Just…please, be careful.”  
“Can I please get back to work?”  
“Louis – ”  
“I’m fine, Liam. Really. It’s okay.” Liam pressed his lips into a flat line and crossed his arms. Why was Liam so unnerved about his relationship with Harry?  
“He’ll be fine.” Liam still looked unconvinced. “Come on.” Zayn patted Liam’s shoulder and the two of them got up and walked out of Louis’ office. 

To Harry: I hope you didn’t accidentally get on the bus to the mental asylum

From Harry: Damn it. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted the man with the white coat who told me this was the right bus

To Harry: Oh Hazza. Life rule number 1: don’t believe anyone

 

Louis stayed at the office until 9:00 Friday night, desperately trying not to think about the fact that it was Valentine’s Day, which meant that Zayn was out on a date with Perrie, Liam was out with Danielle, and Harry would probably be with fucking Michael…fuck. Louis needed a drink.

 

Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
Fuck.  
Why was his ringtone going off at this ungodly hour? What time was it?  
Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
Louis rolled over, his comforter being dragged along with him, as he reached out with closed eyes to his nightstand for his phone. After grabbing empty air two times, his fingers grasped the phone, and he pulled it in front of his face.  
Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
“Okay, shut up, shut up.” He mumbled out as if the phone would hear him and stop ringing. He forcefully lifted up the steel gates that were his eyelids and tried focusing on the blindingly bright phone screen through blurry, sleep-induced eyes. It wasn’t a good combination. Louis could vaguely make out that the screen said ‘Harry Styles’. He squinted and…was that a picture of himself? At the Chinese restaurant? Stuffing a piece of chicken into his mouth? What the fuck?  
Do-do-doo-do-Louis unlocked the phone to stop the agitating noise.  
“Hello?” It felt like there was a frog in his throat.  
“Hey! So I think I’m at your door, but I knocked and you haven’t come to it so I don’t know if I’m at the right place or not.” His voice was saying too many words, and Louis couldn’t comprehend grammar right now. He shut his eyes again.  
“What?”  
“I’m at your door.” Simple and slow: Louis could understand that.  
“You are?” He propped himself up on his arm and rubbed the haziness out of his eyes.  
“Yeah.”  
“Why?”  
“Because I told you I was coming over at ten forty-five…”  
“Oh, right. Shit. What time is it?”  
“Ten forty: I’m kinda early.” Louis still made no effort to get out of his bed. It was so warm, his blood was pumping at such a soothing pace, and his legs felt like they had as much strength as a dead fish.  
“Mmmm.” Harry softly giggled into the phone.  
“Were you asleep?”  
“Oh shut up. It’s Sunday.”  
“Party too hard last night?”  
“Crazy times.” Louis yawned. “Gimme a minute.”  
“M’kay.” Louis lowered the phone to end the call, but he looked back down at the screen and noticed the picture on it.  
“Wait, why the fuck is your contact picture me eating a piece of chicken?” Harry full out laughed this time; Louis imagined the dimples engraved in his face.  
“Did you seriously just discover that?” Louis could hear Harry’s grin through the phone. It made him smile for some reason.  
“You’re a freak.”  
“Some people say that I’m charming.”  
“I’m hanging up now.”  
“Fine.” This time Louis did actually end the call and set his phone back down on the nightstand. He swiftly threw his legs out from under the covers and set his feet on the floor. Currently, he was wearing plaid pajama pants and a thin white tee shirt. Maybe Harry would appreciate the fact that Louis looked like a mess and might cause his mind to start thinking some…thoughts. He didn’t bother changing just yet. Instead, he put on his glasses and padded his way out of the bedroom and to the front door. When he opened it, Harry stood there, looking momentarily shocked. Louis didn’t miss the way Harry’s eyes did a quick once over of Louis’ entire body.  
“Hey, sorry. Come in.” Louis stood out of the way while Harry walked in from the hallway. It was kind of strange: Harry was in his apartment.  
“Do you wear glasses now?”  
“Contacts. Didn’t really have a chance to put them in yet, though.” Louis shut the door.  
“Oh…well, glasses look good on you.” Harry just complimented him, even though Louis knew he looked like a mess. Good to know.  
“Ummm, thanks. You can take your shoes and jacket off. I’m gonna go…” Louis waved his hand in front of his face, “get dressed, if that’s okay.”  
“You can stay in your pajamas, I don’t really care.” Harry took off his jacket to reveal he was wearing a huge grey sweater and skinny blue jeans. His body was really fucking long, and lean, and attractive. If fucking Michael wasn’t in the picture, Louis would’ve had no problem with pushing Harry onto the couch and wrecking him right then and there, tasting his mouth again, feeling Harry’s chest with his mouth – fuck, bad thoughts. Louis cleared his thorat out of nervousness,  
“Oh…okay. I’m just gonna go clean my face and brush my teeth then.”  
“M’kay.” Louis forced himself to look away from Harry’s body and walk towards the bathroom. He really needed something to help him focus on the task at hand…which was definitely not Harry’s body.  
“Can you do me a favor?” He called out while walking into the bathroom.  
“Sure.”  
“Do you know how a coffeemaker works?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Can you put mine on please? It’s on the counter in the kitchen.”  
“M’kay.”  
“Thanks!” Louis took off his glasses and ran the sink water, put a cloth under it, and rinsed off his face with it.  
“Your apartment is nice.” Harry yelled.  
“Thanks.” He put the cloth down, and looked at himself in the mirror. The dark bags under his eyes were tremendous, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes were fairly prominent, and his faced looked as pale as a ghost. Great. He grabbed his toothbrush, poured toothpaste on it, and roughly scrubbed his teeth. The last thing Louis needed right now was a foul smelling mouth. His hair looked like a scruffy mess, so he ran his free hand through it a couple of times.  
“Not nearly the maze I expected it to be.” Harry’s voice sounded like it was coming from two feet away. Louis looked over his shoulder and saw Harry standing in the doorway.  
“Gee, thanks.” He said with a foaming mouth. Harry was clearly staring at Louis’ mouth right now. Louis noticed it with blurry vision, which meant that even an astronaut on the moon could notice it. Harry wasn’t trying to be subtle or even attempting to hide the fact. Louis had no idea what to think of that, so he forced himself to look away and focus on his reflection in the mirror.  
“Niall invited me and a few other people we work with out to lunch today around one. You can come, if you want.” Louis rinsed his mouth out and looked back over at Harry. He could make out that the entire right side of Harry’s body was now leaning on the doorframe, with his right leg crossed over his left. His body slouched forward when Louis looked at him.  
“Oh…well, I don’t wanna intrude or anything.”  
“He said you could come.”  
“Really?”  
“Yeah. A lot of the people are bringing someone along.”  
“I don’t really know anybody…” Harry shrugged.  
“You know me.” Harry wanted Louis to come. Maybe all of his rational thoughts were telling him, ‘no’, but Harry was in Louis’ apartment right now. So clearly rationality wasn’t going to win this battle either.  
“Okay, sure.”  
“Alright, cool.” Louis reached for his contact case. “You’re not keeping your glasses on?”  
“Ummm, no?” That wasn’t supposed to be a question. Damn it. He was picking up Harry’s traits again.  
“Why not?”  
“They get uncomfortable to wear after a while.”  
“Yeah, but they look good on you.”  
“That doesn’t automatically mean I should wear them all the time. If a trashy Halloween outfit looked good on you, would you wear it to work?” Harry laughed and leaned his head against the doorframe, seriously thinking about it.  
“I’d consider it.”  
“Well, you’re not normal.”  
“Neither are you so I wouldn’t be talking.” Louis scrunched up his face and Harry imitated him.  
“You seriously want me to wear the glasses?”  
“You look intellectual in them.”  
“And I don’t without them?”  
“Again with you twisting my words: you look good in them, you look good without them; it’s up to you.” Louis had to bite the inside of his cheek so he wouldn’t smile so widely. His face felt like it was burning, though.  
“But you wanna see me in glasses.”  
“I haven’t seen you with glasses on in a while.” Louis put down his contact case, grabbed his glasses, and placed them on his face. It was kind of shocking how much more stunning Harry was when Louis’ vision was less blurry. Everything about him was so defined. Every line, every tiny hair – everything was so pristine. Harry was right there, and he was real, and he was beautiful.  
“Happy now?”  
“Yep.” 

 

By the time they’d gotten off the bus and walked into the pub, it was already 1:15. Harry spotted Niall at the bar sitting next to a brunette woman. Harry took hold of Louis’ elbow and led him to the bar.  
“Hey, Niall!” Harry said as he patted him on the back. Niall and the brunette turned around.  
“Hey, you made it!” Niall’s attention shifted to Louis, “Louis! How’re you?” Niall talked like he was ball of energy about to burst; his cheeks were flushed red, and Louis briefly wondered how much he already had to drink. Louis would place a bet on probably two or three drinks.  
“Good, good.”  
“Hi!” The young woman said while waving. She had a slender face, soft hazel eyes, long brown hair, and a comforting smile.  
“Oh! Let me introduce you two. Amy, this is Louis, Harry’s old friend and the architect we hired for our practice. Louis, this is Amy, my wife.” Niall was married? Shit. Louis had absolutely no idea. He briefly glanced down at Niall’s left hand and noticed Niall wore a gold wedding band.  
“I had no idea you were married! It’s nice to meet you!” Louis held out his hand and Amy shook it.  
“You too; I remember hearing about you.” Louis stomach began churning: Amy heard about him?  
“Oh…umm, good things I hope.”  
“Just that you were Harry’s old friend turned architect.” It was funny that she phrased it like at one point in the past, Louis’ job had been being Harry’s friend.  
“Oh, okay.” Louis nervously chuckled. So Niall clearly knew that in the past, Louis and Harry were friends. But how much did he actually know about their relationship?  
“Ashton, Calum, Jesy, Luke, and Jade are all here somewhere.” Niall told Harry while pointing to the tables.  
“Okay.” Harry put his hand on Louis’ back, “I’m gonna go say hi to them for a minute; I’ll be right back.” And with that his hand left Louis’ body and he was walking off to the tables.  
“Louis, take a seat.” Niall said as he patted the seat next to him. Louis took him up on the offer, and sat down.  
“You want a beer or something?”  
“Oh, no, I’m fine. Thanks, though.”  
“You sure?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Okay, suit yourself.” Niall proceeded to take a gulp out of his glass of beer.  
“How long have you two been married for?”  
“Four years.” Amy answered.  
“Wow, that’s great.” Amy smiled gratefully and Niall wrapped his arm around the back of her chair. Now this was a couple that complimented each other looks wise. Her brown hair and hazel eyes contrasted with Niall’s blond hair and blue eyes, and their face shapes looked like they were from the same page of a magazine. Even their huge smiles were so similar that they flattered each other. “How long have you guys been together for?”  
“We met during our residency so – ”  
“It’s been seven years.” Amy finished for him. Niall pointed to her,  
“I agree.” The two of them started laughing together; Louis figured there must be some sort of inside joke between them because he didn’t know where the humor was coming from, but awkwardly laughed with them anyway.  
“Niall.” Louis looked up to see a tall man patting Niall’s shoulder. He had dark blond hair that was splayed out all over his head, a circular face shape, hair growing along his chin and above his upper lip, thick brown eyebrows, and dull blue eyes. He glanced at Louis once, squinted his eyes as if he didn’t recognize Louis, and then focused his attention back to Niall.  
Maybe he didn’t know Louis, but Louis had definitely seen his face before.  
“Hey, man! I thought Harry said you weren’t coming.”  
“I wanted to surprise him; is he here yet?”  
Yep. This was him. There was no doubt in Louis’ mind that this was him.  
“Yeah, he just went to go say hi to a few people.”  
“What a charmer.” He stood up on his toes and craned his neck upwards to look around the table area. That was when Louis noticed a deformed red circle planted on his neck, which was undoubtedly a recent hickey. A smug smile appeared on his face and he walked forward two steps. Louis turned to see what he was looking at.  
It was Harry. And Louis really should’ve expected that.  
It was Harry walking towards him with a smile of disbelief on his face. And then Harry walked into his arms, wrapped his own arms around his waist, and hugged him tightly while saying, “I thought you said you couldn’t come.”  
“Surprise! I lied!” They separated and Harry playfully shoved his chest.  
“You dick.” He winked at Harry and Louis thought that he could die now. He didn’t want to do life anymore. Could he quit life? Was that a thing?  
Something seemed to click inside of Harry’s head as he immediately looked over at Louis. Harry put his hand on his back and walked them both over to Louis. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Louis’ heart was either beating a billion times too fast or it had frozen into an iceberg. Either way could explain why he couldn’t feel his pulse. Was this not an acceptable time to throw up? Because all of his organs wanted to spew themselves out of Louis’ body like he was experiencing the Black Plague or something. Maybe the Black Plague would be more pleasant than this situation. Getting bitten by a cobra, or mauled by a lion, or slowly drowning under water, or run over by an 18-wheeler, or being continuously stabbed in the heart would be more pleasant than this situation.  
“Louis, this is Michael.”  
Yep. Louis wanted to quit life.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!!!! So I feel the need to thank you all again for your fantastic support for the story so far. It's truly been amazing, and I'm so incredibly grateful for it. I really don't think I could ever thank you all enough!!!!!
> 
> I aim to have an update out every 6-14 days. As much as I love writing, it has to go on the back burner with schoolwork right now, but don't worry because the flames are still on and cooking. I promise you all that this story will continue and I won't abandon it. The updates won't come out as often, but I'm so so so so so excited for you all to find out what happens. I have a lot planned for the remaining six chapters (I think it should only be six more chapters and possibly an epilogue).
> 
> Anyway, thank you all again, I hope you enjoy this update, and don't you just love sexual tension?

Louis hated him.  
Louis really hated him.  
Louis really, really, really, really hated him.  
Which, granted, probably wasn’t fair since he didn’t even know the guy at all, but still. Louis hated him. All of the blood pumping through his body hated him, each one of his bones hated him, and every single one of his muscles hated him. He was just so…ordinary. There was nothing special about him; he was average looking, but nothing really stood out to make him attractive. Okay, so maybe Louis was a bit bias, and maybe he was semi-attractive, but still: there was also the unavoidable fact that he was fucking Harry. Which was…well, it made Louis feel like he was a thin, flimsy piece of paper that was put through a shredder and minced into fragments. Fuck, Louis hated him. He fucking despised fucking Michael and his hair, his face, his eyes, his body, his smile, his voice, and his relationship with Harry.  
Fucking Michael.  
“Michael, this is Louis.” Fucking Michael nodded as he mouthed ‘oh’. Great: he must know something about Louis. At least this meant that Harry mentioned him before. But how much did he know? How often does Harry talk about Louis? How much did Harry tell him? How much did Harry tell anyone about Louis?  
“Nice to meet you.” Fucking Michael held out his hand and smiled at Louis. A genuine smile. Louis couldn’t even pretend to smile. His muscles refused to do it. It was a crime against nature to feign happiness in this scenario. It was a crime against his past with Harry to smile at fucking Michael. God, Louis wanted to punch him. Maybe he could throw a glass at fucking Michael’s head and he would fall onto the floor thus distracting everyone else and giving Louis enough time to run away, move to Greenland, get plastic surgery, change his name, and live amongst the penguins. Wait…that was Antarctica. Whatever. He just needed to get out of here. Everything in his body was telling him to get out because if he stayed any longer, he would explode. Every atom that made up his body would detonate into individual atomic bombs. It’d be nuclear warfare within his body. That wouldn’t end well for anybody in the room.  
But then he looked at Harry. He was biting his bottom lip and staring at Louis with apprehensive eyes that had a sliver of light trying to shove its way out and reach Louis’. And the only thing Louis could feel then was pure heartache. Harry was never ending care, optimism, and devotion. Harry was sorrow, guilt, and regret. But more so than anything else, Harry was hope and love. And Louis couldn’t let him go; he couldn’t let Harry down again. If he wanted to prove to Harry that he’d changed, he needed to act like it now. So he had to play nice and stop the bombs from dropping.  
Well then. That’s a tall fucking order.  
“You too.” The words barely got out of his clenched throat as he stood up on weak legs and held out a slack hand that Michael took and vigorously shook; he looked extremely confused and uncomfortable when he realized Louis’ hand was a dead fish, and then let go. Good. Louis could play nice, but he could also play it while getting across the point that he didn’t appreciate or like Michael’s presence at all.  
“Do you want to get a table?” Michael asked Harry.  
“Ummm, yeah. Louis, Niall, Amy, wanna join us?” Oh. So apparently the lunch that Louis was invited to had just turned into a private date between Harry and Michael, and now Louis had to be invited again to join in. And not just to join in, but to be the fifth wheel.  
Life is just so fucking peachy.  
“Yeah, sure.” Niall answered while grabbing his beer and getting up. Amy followed suit, and Harry looked at Louis with the same remorseful expression as before. Fuck. There was no way Harry didn’t realize what was going on in Louis’ mind right now, and Louis could tell that Harry felt uncomfortable. His pigeon-toed feet were pointed inwards, and his body looked like a slack plank of oak wood. Louis forced his head to move up and down, and Harry weakly smiled at him. It was a pity smile.  
Louis really, really, really wanted to quit life.

 

It was one thing sitting across from Harry.  
It was another thing sitting across from Harry, who was sitting next to fucking Michael.  
It was a completely different scenario sitting across from Harry, who was sitting next to fucking Michael, who had his hand on top of Harry’s thigh the entire time. Louis had the intense urge to smack fucking Michael’s hand away. Instead, he bit the inside of his cheek and clutched onto the menu, hoping his legs wouldn’t betray his guilty conscious and kick Michael in the shins.  
“Why didn’t you tell me you were gonna come?” Harry quietly asked Michael. Louis knew that the conversation was only meant to be between the two of them, but Niall and Amy were also in their own conversation right now, so it wasn’t like Louis was involved in something that would prohibit him from listening. Louis looked down at his menu and pretended to mind his own business when really, he was like an owl listening to find food in the dark; his ears were fine tuned to hear any word that came out of Harry’s mouth. And he just really wanted to know what Harry saw in fucking Michael and why he was dating him.  
“H, is that really an appropriate question to ask in public?” Fucking really? Louis quickly glanced up to see blush arise on Harry’s face as he playfully shoved his shoulder into Michael’s. Louis instantly regretted that decision and looked back down at the menu.  
Someone kill Louis. Now. Somebody kill Louis now, please.  
“Yes, you perv. Care to answer?”  
“I told you: the auditors are coming in this week. When you asked me on Thursday, Rob said that we would probably be working over the weekend finishing things up and going over them. Turns out that he only meant Saturday.”  
“You couldn’t have texted me?” Their conversation turned into whispering at this point.  
“I thought a surprise would be better, and I didn’t think you would bring Louis; I was under the impression that you were just spending the morning with him.” Okay. So it seemed like Michael didn’t like the fact that Louis came along and was spending more time with Harry than just the morning. Maybe Michael didn’t like Louis, but why? Louis would be perfectly okay with that because he would have absolutely no problem openly reciprocating the feeling, but why didn’t he like Louis? Why didn’t he want Harry spending time with him? He didn’t even know Louis.  
“I’m allowed to spend time with other people. Besides, I wanted him to come along.”  
“Well, aren’t you two cozy.” Was that accusatory jealousy Louis just heard?  
“Stop.”  
“So, Louis.” Shit. Michael just addressed him. Louis looked up and saw him looking at Louis with a smug smile on his face and a protective hand not so discreetly gripping like a clamp onto Harry’s thigh. “You’re the lucky one who got to spend the morning with this charmer,” was Louis allowed to throw up? He really needed to throw up because of this fuckery, “hope he wasn’t too hard to handle.” That sounded like a jab at both Louis and Harry. It made Louis inwardly chuckle to himself, because if he was trying to discreetly refer to hand jobs, then he was doing a horrible job at it. And no, Harry was easy and fantastic to handle back in High School. Besides, that was years before Michael got his filthy hands all over him. Harry loved it too, so shove that up your ass, fucking Michael.  
“I handled him for six years back in the stone age – ”  
“So Harry’s told me.” Michael just cut him off. Good: now Louis had a legitimate reason to hate him. But wait, did this mean that Michael knew about Harry and Louis’ relationship back then? He looked over at Harry, whose eyebrows were furrowed and eyes intensely focused on the glass of water in front of him.  
“Yeah, we had some good times, didn’t we Haz?” Harry’s eyes briefly widened for an instant as he met Louis’ gaze.  
“Yeah…”  
“Haz?” Fucking Michael asked with a smile and questioning eyes; it sounded and looked like he was patronizing Louis. Okay: another reason to legitimately hate him. Good. Fuck him. “I think I’ll have to start calling you that.” To say that Louis’ chest was engulfed in flames only found during a solar flare was an understatement. Louis wanted to say, ‘how about you fuck off?’ but what came out instead was,  
“Sorry, but I copyrighted that name sixteen years ago.” Maybe this was coming out as snarky, but that was exactly how Louis needed it to sound. He met Harry first, he kissed Harry first, and he had a relationship with Harry first, so fucking Michael needed to back away.  
“Yeah, well that’s what loopholes are for.” But Michael clearly didn’t want to back off. Great. Barely two minutes had gone by, and Louis was struggling to hold it together. ‘How the fuck am I supposed to get through at least another forty minutes of this shit?’ he asked himself. “So H tells me you’re an architect.” H? How fucking original.  
“Yep.”  
“You design buildings then?” Fucking Michael: of course he wouldn’t know that being an architect involved much more than just designing buildings. Granted, not a lot of people did, but still. This just further proved his average-ness, and Louis continued to struggle with understanding how he was worthy enough to be Harry’s boyfriend.  
“Yeah,” Niall said, “he’s amazing at it. Mike, you have to see some of the things they do: it’s insane. They got featured in the Inquirer like two months ago.” Michael nodded,  
“Yeah, I think I read that…what’s your firm called again?”  
“Lego House.”  
“Oh yeah, right. Stealing from Ed Sheeran?” Fucking Michael squinted at Louis while he asked the question. He just accused Louis of stealing. Louis’ throat burned with rage; it took everything in him to not stand up right then and there, lean over the table, and punch him straight in the middle of his face.  
“They actually came up with the name four years before the song came out.” Niall answered for Louis. Thank God for Niall, because Louis probably would’ve said that sentence with a much more colorful assortment of profane words.  
“I’m just kidding.” If Louis bet on things, he would place all of his money on fucking Michael turning this meet and greet into a competition. And Louis wasn’t going to take any of that shit.  
“What about you?”  
“Hmm?”  
“What do you do?”  
“I’m an accountant for Comcast.”  
“Oh. An accountant. Interesting.” It wasn’t interesting. It wasn’t even close to being compelling. Fucking Michael was an accountant. Louis definitely wins having the more exciting job out of the two. “Where’d you go to school?”  
“Penn.” Fucking Ivy Leaguer. With that, his accounting job, and current relationship with Harry, it was no wonder that he clearly seemed to think he was better than Louis and felt the need to show it. He seemed like a prestigious asshole. Little did fucking Michael know, though, Syracuse has one of the best architect schools in the country, having his own firm was better than working for a monopoly that provides cable, and he had history with Harry. They had been through so much together, they grew up together, and their bond was still there even though sixteen years came in between it. So Louis was clearly better than fucking Michael. But Louis’ curiosity was sparked…  
“Oh…did you two, like, meet there?”  
“No.” Harry answered right away, “He’s three years younger than me, and even if we were the same age, the probability that we would’ve met at Penn is pretty low.” Louis wasn’t sure if Harry was trying to defend or offend his relationship with Michael.  
“Tell him how we did meet.” Harry sighed,  
“It was just a stupid accident – ”  
“Oh come on; it was funny. Do you want me to tell it?” Harry looked down at his menu and shrugged, “He’s being bashful.” Louis swore he heard Niall scoff. “It was a bit more than two years ago on a Sunday. I was riding my bike in the morning, going to the Schuylkill trail, and when I turned a corner, I almost ran down this guy who was walking with a cup of coffee. He dropped his coffee, and I felt bad so I went back and offered to buy him another one. Turns out he –” fucking Michael pushed his index finger into Harry’s cheek; Harry’s face was stone and he didn’t look up from his menu, “– was really attractive and charming, so we went to get coffee, exchanged numbers, and a month later, we were dating.” This hurt. Their first meeting was some sort of stupid occurrence that happened out of nowhere. This was how Louis imagined he would run into Harry all those years ago: by accident. Apparently, Harry had accidentally run into the wrong person.  
“Cool.” Louis managed to utter out. Harry looked up, met Louis’ eyes, and the left side of his mouth scrunched up. It looked like he was giving Louis an apologetic smile. Louis imitated the smile to try and tell Harry that it was okay; in reality, Louis was far from okay right now. In fact, ‘okay’ would probably be one of the last words he could use to describe this situation.  
“How’s your apartment?” Niall asked. Louis looked over at Niall and realized that the question was being directed towards him.  
“It’s good, yeah. Much cleaner now.”  
“Was he this OCD when you were younger?” Harry rolled his eyes,  
“I don’t have OCD.”  
“If I accidentally drop a piece of trash on the ground, you pick it up and throw it out.”  
“That’s called littering the environment.”  
“Philly isn’t an environment; it’s literally a city that is void of anything green.”  
“Lou’s building that got featured in the Inquirer is building back up the green, though.” This caught Louis’ attention as he looked back over at Harry.  
“I thought you didn’t read that?” Louis asked. Harry shyly smiled,  
“After I found out it was your firm, I felt obligated to read it.”  
“And now it’s pinned to his fridge.” Michael said in the midst of a sigh.  
“No, it’s not.”  
“I’m going to rephrase the question: did Harry like to clean this much when he was a kid?” Niall asked before taking another sip of his beer. Louis thought back on it,  
“He’s always liked keeping things neat. He used to be like his own housemaid…besides the cooking part.” Harry chuckled,  
“I could cook.”  
“You mean with the mayo that was always in the fridge?”  
“No way!” Niall yelled, “He always had mayo in our dorm room.”  
“You never know when you’re gonna need it.” Harry defended himself.  
“I do: never.” Niall answered. Louis laughed at the comment; it was kind of funny hearing from Niall how Harry was in college. It sounded like Harry didn’t change all that much.  
“That’s not true – ”  
“I never used it, you never used it, people that came over never used it – ”  
“What if someone needed to make a sandwich?”  
“Then they’d get the bread out.”  
“What if they had a yeast allergy?” Louis was impressed by the amount Harry was willing to debate Niall over this pressing topic. Harry had always been one to stick up for what he believed in.  
“Are you implying that they’d get a spoon and dig into the mayo jar instead?”  
“Well…I dunno. Maybe.” This got a laugh out of everyone except Harry at the table.  
“No: they wouldn’t. In the middle of the night, the last thing someone would want for a snack is a jar of mayo.” Louis chuckled and decided to defend Harry from his impending defeat,  
“Personally, it’d be the first thing I’d go for.” Michael rolled his eyes,  
“Hah! Louis agrees with me.”  
“He’s just being nice. That’s the last thing anyone would go for.” Michael said.  
“I just said it was the first thing I’d go for.”  
“Really?” Michael glared at Louis. The fact that he could piss Michael off so easily actually made Louis feel extraordinarily proud of himself. “Would you like us to order a bowl of mayo so you can prove that?”  
“Well no; it’s not midnight nor snack time so…” That got a cackle out of Harry and a giggle out of Niall and Amy. Michael just scowled at Louis. Yep, Louis was definitely winning right now.  
“I’m good at cooking now.” Harry declared.  
“I don’t believe that for a second. You knew how to cook pasta, that was it.”  
“And how to open the mayo jar.” Niall added in. Louis held up his hand and they high-fived each other; he loved how easily he and Niall got along and could joke around.  
“No, seriously, I know how to cook now. I could, like, make a three course meal.”  
“You’ve never made a three course meal.” Michael pointed out.  
“I said I could make one…if I really wanted to or something.” Louis shook his head,  
“I still don’t believe that you cook.”  
“Fine. Come to my place sometime and I’ll make you actual food.” Michael furrowed his eyebrows into a hard line and shot daggers at Louis. Good. Louis wanted him to feel threatened and jealous.  
“Fine, deal. If it’s anything from a box, though, it doesn’t count.”  
“What? Yes it does.”  
“No it doesn’t: you didn’t make it yourself.”  
“I still cooked it, though!”  
“Nope. Not homemade. Doesn’t count.”  
“I agree with Louis.” Amy said. “If it’s from a box, it’s not homemade.”  
“Thank you, Amy. Niall, you married a quality woman.” Niall threw an arm around the back of her chair.  
“Her cooking isn’t the only quality thing about her.”  
“Niall…” She warned with a smile.  
“What? I’m talking about your personality, sense of humor, fantastic body – ”  
“Alright honey, thanks for using your head.”  
“Which head?” Michael slyly asked. Harry elbowed him, which only made Michael laugh. Amy stared at him with a completely straight face,  
“His penis head.”  
“Woahhh there!” Niall exclaimed. Louis began to laugh at the whole scenario; Amy clearly wanted to put make Michael feel uncomfortable, but the comment only flustered Niall. “Not true.”  
“You don’t use it?” Michael asked seriously.  
“Okay, this topic is ending right now. How about this weather?”  
“It’d be great if you were a penguin.” Louis commented.  
“Oh c’mon, Louis. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that the winter is when most relationships start to come together? You have to get cozy with each other.” Niall pulled Amy into a side hug.  
“I can definitely attest to that.” Michael said, putting his arm around Harry and staring at Louis with a conceited smile. Harry just looked down at the table.  
And here Louis was, right back where he started: blatantly fifth wheeling, and despising fucking Michael.

 

Harry gave Louis a quick side hug afterwards and then left with Michael.  
Louis took the bus home alone.  
When he walked into his apartment, the solitude slowly built up around him until it suffocated him. Louis was trapped in an isolated box that was being painfully injected with silence. With every breath he took and each step he walked, he heard nothing but static bouncing in the space between his two ears. He became acutely aware of how much more at use his apartment was with Harry there this morning. With two people, the space felt less like a place to live and more like a home to live in. Now, it just felt like there was too much space and too much to do for one person. Louis lived alone, and suddenly, he felt extremely unsatisfied with that.  
When he lived with Liam and Zayn, there was always the comforting fact that somebody was there no matter what. One of them would always complain about Louis’ clothes that were scattered all over the floors, someone would always be taking up too much room on the couch, there was always a person available to go out with, he could use somebody else’s shampoo if he ran out, there was always someone to laugh with, he could always get one of them to make food, and Louis could always sit down and relax with one of them. The underlining fact was that there was always somebody else there. Maybe it was the company that Louis missed, or maybe it was their presence that made him feel less abandoned.  
This, though…this felt like solitary confinement. After seven years, Louis was thought he was used to it. But after seven years, he was realizing that he no longer wanted it. He wanted someone to put on the coffee machine for him, he wanted someone to brush his teeth next to, he wanted someone who wouldn’t care if he looked like shit, he wanted someone to know where something was when he couldn’t find it, he wanted someone to share clothes with, he wanted someone to tell him if there was something in his teeth, he wanted someone to tell him if he forgot to do something, he wanted someone to always sit with, he wanted someone who he could hug whenever he was in the mood for a cuddle. Louis wanted someone to do the little things with. He just wanted someone. No, that was a lie. He didn’t want just someone: he wanted Harry. He wanted to do all those things with Harry. He wanted to wake up to Harry’s eyes, he wanted to go through the day with Harry’s voice, and he wanted to go to sleep holding onto Harry’s body.  
But Harry was currently with Michael. They’re in a relationship, they’re dating, and they have each other. Louis couldn’t be anything more than a friend. And really, that’s his own fault in the first place. He and Harry should’ve been dating in High School. He should’ve called Harry his boyfriend. He should’ve appreciated Harry more when he had the chance to. He should’ve told Harry that he was completely, totally, and one hundred percent gone for him. He shouldn’t have been so afraid. He shouldn’t have let him go. The backs of Louis’ eyes began to feel like needles were prickling them as they welted up. Fuck, he was such an oblivious and scared asshole back then. Louis was broken into pieces because of Harry, and he didn’t know how to put them back together. Why couldn’t he have just held on? Why did he let the most important person in his life slip away? Why does he still feel the same way about Harry after so long? Why is Harry back now, and Louis can’t do a goddamn thing about it? Why is Louis still such a coward?  
Everything is just so extraordinarily fucked up. It really shouldn’t be this complicated.  
This is definitely not the direction Louis envisioned his life going in.

 

Louis walked into the firm Monday morning in a shitty mood. It’s not like the day started out that well, either; he tripped on the treadmill and fell flat on the ground, so his knees were a bruised purple shade and it hurt to walk. On his way to the firm, somebody on the street bumped into him and spilled some of their coffee onto his coat without even an “I’m sorry!” so it was clear that this wasn’t going to be his day. This was going to be one of those days where he would have trouble focusing on anything besides asking himself “why me?” all day.  
He was greeted to the typical sight of Zayn’s eyes glued to the blindingly bright computer screen. Zayn looked up when Louis walked into his office and plopped down on the chair.  
“Morning.”  
“Mmm.” He mumbled while taking a sip of his coffee.  
“Tired?”  
“I tripped while running this morning, and someone spilled coffee on my coat.”  
“Well that’s shit.”  
“Trust me, I know.” Zayn shut his laptop screen and lit up a cigarette. Louis almost had the mind to ask for one, but then he remembered it wasn’t weed nor would it take his mind off of his shitty situation of a life.  
“Today is not your day.”  
“Clearly not. How was Friday?” A small smile appeared on Zayn’s face and he nodded his head,  
“Really good.”  
“You wanna wait ‘til Liam gets here to paint the picture?”  
“Paint the picture?”  
“Tell the story of – ”  
“No, I know. I’ve never heard you say that before.”  
“I’m an ever-changing man, Mr. Malik.” Zayn squinted his eyes and examined Louis over once while deeply inhaling the smoke. It was a bit unsettling.  
“What’s going on?”  
“I told you what happened this morning.”  
“You’re not telling me something else, though.” Louis shrugged and focused his attention on the warmth radiating off of his coffee cup. He could feel the blood begin to rush through the tiny vessels in his hands as a result of the increased heat. It created a sort of numbness in them because the air around him was so cold. Sure, Louis felt bad for not wanting to tell Liam and Zayn about his excursions with Harry, but maybe if he didn’t tell them, his relationship with Harry wouldn’t matter. If it wasn’t something to talk about, then it wasn’t worth the pain in Louis’ chest. Of course he wanted to talk about it, though, and of course the pain in his chest was unrelieved. But that would just bring the conversation down, and Zayn and Liam probably had happier stories to tell of their lives as men with serious relationships. Louis didn’t want to deny them of their happily-ever-after stories. Fuck. If only he could numb his mind rid of Harry…“Okay, so what did you do this weekend?”  
“Slept, drank, all that fun stuff.” Zayn lifted his left eyebrow in doubt. “What?”  
“This doesn’t have to do with Har – ”  
“Don’t wanna talk about it right now.”  
“Talk about what?” Fuck. Louis just gave away the fact that something happened this weekend. So much for not telling anyone. So much for it not mattering. He exasperatedly let out a deep sigh,  
“He came over Sunday, that’s all.” Zayn carefully lifted his cigarette to his lips and positioned it in his mouth.  
“To your place?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Why?”  
“To clean.” Zayn outwardly chuckled at that before taking a drag.  
“That is the most ridiculous excuse for going over to a ‘friends’ house that I’ve ever heard.”  
“It wasn’t an excuse – ”  
“Shouldn’t you be over the moon or some shit if you saw him?” Louis focused his attention back onto his coffee cup.  
“Not when I accidentally met his boyfriend.” He murmured.  
“What?” Liam’s voice drifted into the room behind Louis. He really wasn’t in the mood to explain this right now, and if he did, it would most likely ruin the joyous stories Zayn and Liam had to tell. His weekend was probably the polar opposite of how theirs went.  
“I met Harry’s boyfriend.” Liam sat down in his chair and faced Louis.  
“Wait, you were with Harry?”  
“Yes.”  
“When?”  
“Sunday.” Zayn answered, “He went over to Lou’s house to help ‘clean’.” He put air quotations around the word ‘clean’.  
“Why didn’t we know about this?”  
“It wasn’t anything big or drastic so I just…I dunno, I didn’t tell you about it.” Louis saw Liam and Zayn exchange a concerned glance with each other. Sometimes, Louis really felt like he was their adopted child or something. They worry way too much.  
“How’d you meet his boyfriend then?” He sighed,  
“We went out to lunch, but I don’t really wanna talk about it right now.”  
“You sure?” Zayn asked. Louis tried to forge a smile,  
“Mhmm.” The room stayed silent for a few moments as Zayn took a few drags and Louis and Liam drank their coffee. “So, how were your weekends?”  
“Good.” Liam answered.  
“What’d you do?”  
“I took Dani – ”  
“Dani?” Zayn asked. “You’re calling her Dani now?”  
“Something wrong with that?”  
“No, it’s just…you two have definitely clicked very fast.”  
“Yeah, I guess so.”  
“That’s good.” Liam slightly smiled to himself,  
“Yeah.”  
“You took her somewhere?” Louis asked.  
“Yeah, I got a reservation on one of those dinner boats – ” Zayn chuckled,  
“What the hell is a dinner boat?”  
“It’s basically like a restaurant on a boat that sails down the river.”  
“Fuck; you’re really taking this chivalry thing to a new level.”  
“I mean, we went back to my place afterwards so it’s clearly working…”  
“Really?” Zayn asked while Louis simultaneously yelled,  
“You got laid?”  
“Yes. And no, Louis, we didn’t have sex.”  
“Yet.” Louis winked at him and Liam rolled his eyes. “What happened?”  
“Little bit of this, little bit of that…” Liam explained with a smug smile on his face.  
“Enough with the obscure vagueness: did your dick get some action or what?” Liam was silent for a few moments as he flicked his head back and forth between Louis and Zayn.  
“…Yes.”  
“It’s about time.” Zayn said. Louis broke out into a round of applause.  
“Congratulations! This is quite a big day for you, isn’t it?”  
“Yes because this is the first time a girl has ever come in contact with my dick.” He said sarcastically.  
“I’m hoping that she didn’t use her pearly white dental assistant teeth to bite.” Zayn quietly laughed to himself at Louis’ comment.  
“No. And for your imagination, she’s ace at using her tongue.” Okay. Liam just took this to the next level and Louis refused to even think about those implications.  
“I literally never needed to picture that in my life.”  
“You asked for it.”  
“Pretty sure I didn’t, but okay, I’m just gonna forget you ever said that.”  
“So are you two official now?” Zayn asked. Liam proudly nodded with a wide grin plastered onto his face,  
“Yes we are.”  
“Ooo Liam’s got a girlfriend.” Zayn said in a high-pitched voice. Louis decided to play along,  
“Liam has a girlfriend!”  
“A girl who’s a friend – ”  
“Lee-yum’s girl-friend.”  
“You two never know when to shut up.” Louis reached over to pat Liam on the arm,  
“How does it feel to be a man now?” Louis could tell Liam was trying to contain his emotions and stop himself from giddily laughing as he swatted Louis’ hand off.  
“You say that every time, you prick.”  
“Think of it like a video game: every time you get with a someone, you level up in manhood.”  
“So then between the three of us, I’m winning?”  
“Oh sweet, sweet, innocent Liam…”  
“I’m definitely winning.” Zayn declared.  
“Really?” Liam asked. Zayn brought his cigarette up to his lips and nodded as he inhaled a breath. “Okay Mr. Stud, how was your date with Perrie?”  
“Great: I didn’t have to take her to a floating restaurant to get her back to my place.”  
“What?” Liam yelled.  
“Calm down, calm down.”  
“You brought her back to your place on your first date?”  
“We only – ”  
“Zayn, as much as I’d love to hear about this, we have to see Perrie everyday, and I’d rather not think about her touching, sucking, or riding your dick.” Louis pointed out. Zayn mischievously smiled and shrugged,  
“Fair enough.”  
“So it went well then?” Liam asked.  
“Yeah, really well. It was a pretty cool date: we went to this small Italian place, walked around a bit, got cupcakes afterwards, and then we headed back to my place.”  
“Are you dating or what?”  
“Not officially, but I think I’m gonna ask Friday night, and I also think the answer will probably be yes.”  
“You already set another date?”  
“Yep.” Zayn took another drag. It was actually amazing how relaxed he was about all of this. He wasn’t the blushing idiot that Liam was; he was just cool, calm, and collected about all of it.  
“So am I allowed to make comments about this to Perrie or not?” Louis asked. Zayn just shrugged and tipped his cigarette into the ashtray.  
“Sure.”  
“Wait, really?”  
“If I say no, you’ll do it anyway. So sure.”  
“You know me too well.”  
“Yeah. So care to explain this whole you meeting Harry’s boyfriend or whatever?”  
“Not really.”  
“Yes you do.” Liam said.  
“I met him. The end.”  
“What was he like?” Louis sank down in his chair; this conversation was inevitably going to happen at some point.  
“He was…average.”  
“That’s all?”  
“I mean, yeah.”  
“Was he polite?” Louis didn’t even have to think about it,  
“He made everything into a competition, he cut me off, he accused me of stealing our firm’s name, he basically told Harry he didn’t want me there, and he was always glaring at me.”  
“He told Harry he didn’t want you there?”  
“He whispered something like, ‘I didn’t know he was going to be here’ and I happened to overhear it.”  
“You’re ace at” Liam made quotation marks with his fingers, “overhearing things.”  
“Oh fuck off.”  
“Was he the one who made it into a competition, or are you sure that wasn’t just you?”  
“Well…I mean…he definitely started it.” Liam gave Louis a cynical look before blandly saying,  
“Uh huh.”  
“It wasn’t like I could let him try and walk all over me.”  
“How exactly did this happen?” Zayn asked.  
“What?”  
“You third-wheeling.”  
“Fifth, actually.”  
“Fifth? Who else was there?”  
“Niall and his wife.” Liam’s jaw dropped,  
“I didn’t know he was married.”  
“Neither did I, but he’s been married four years.”  
“Damn, good for him.”  
“I’m still confused,” Zayn added in, “how did you end up going out to lunch with them?”  
“Harry was at my place in the morning, he said he was going out to lunch with Niall and a few other people from work, invited me along, and Michael showed up.”  
“Michael’s the boyfriend?”  
“Yes.”  
“Did Harry know he was coming?”  
“No.” Zayn leaned back in his chair and began to chuckle,  
“Oh.”  
“Why are you laughing?”  
“Because that’s really fucking uncomfortable.”  
“I feel bad for Harry.” Liam interjected. Louis and Zayn both looked at him, “Just think about it. He goes there with the guy he used to fuck – ”  
“We never fucked.”  
“ – and, to my understanding, never really had an ending with, then the guy he’s currently fucking unexpectedly shows up. Think about how awkward that probably was for him.”  
“It was hell-a-awkward for me too.”  
“Yeah, but think about it from his side, though; he has to pick one of you over the other.”  
“What?”  
“That’s what this is going to come down to.” Louis was extremely confused,  
“What the hell are you talking about?”  
“He’s either going to pick Michael, or you.”  
“What do you mean…?” Louis slowly asked.  
“Lou, what do you honestly think is going to happen in the end? You’ll be platonic best friends? You don’t want that, and he probably doesn’t want that either, so I can most likely guarantee that won’t ever happen.” Honestly, Louis had never really thought about this before. Yes, he wanted more with Harry, but he never thought about how he was going to get there. If he was going to get there, Harry would have to leave Michael at some point. But, hypothetically, if he wasn’t going to get there…  
“Well…I mean…I – I dunno…”  
“He’s right,” Zayn said, “Harry’s going to have to pick if he wants to be with you or Michael, and then leave the other one out of his life.” Okay. That was blunt and straight to the point. This wasn’t what Louis wanted to imagine. Thinking about Harry leaving him…well, it wasn’t something that was helping his already shitty mood.  
“If you’re trying to cheer me up, then you’re doing a horrible job at it.”  
“We’re just being honest. I don’t want him to chew you up and spit you out.” Liam explained.  
“Are you trying to make this sexual or…?”  
“No, I’m just – you need to be prepared for either way that this could turn out, and I don’t want you to be caught off guard if it turns out how you don’t want it to.”  
“Meaning that Harry stays with Michael and leaves me.”  
“Yeah.” Louis shook his head.  
“Harry’s not just gonna leave me.”  
“Isn’t that what you thought in High School, though?” This gave Louis pause. Shit: Liam was right. Well, not entirely, since he knew that at some point they would be separated. But it wasn’t like Louis thought Harry would completely leave his life like he did.  
“It’s too early in the morning to think about this.”  
“Running away from the problem doesn’t fix it.” And Louis’ heart dropped to the center of the Earth. This was the exact phrase Harry told him when they fought about Harry wanting to come out and Louis going to prom with Eleanor. Louis remembers the moment as clear as day. He remembers the look of sorrowful pain on Harry’s face. He remembers how frustrated he felt. He remembers slamming the car door in Harry’s face. He remembers how much of an idiotic asshole he was.  
“I know…”  
“So what are you going to do?” What was he going to do? Louis couldn’t make the same mistakes again; he can’t ignore any of it again. He can’t repeat the past. He refused to be the same idiotic asshole. He refused to let Harry leave again. In the end, there was only one clear answer:  
“I’m gonna fight for him.”

 

It was only after everyone else left and there were no distractions when Louis really started to think about it: how was he going to fight for Harry? Challenge Michael to a duel? Poison him? Blackmail him? No, those were all impractical and immoral. Reality isn’t a Lifetime original movie. Okay, so no dueling, poisoning, or blackmailing because those were stupid and unrealistic. Maybe there should be a game show called ‘Who Should Harry Date?’ that was like a blind dating show, where he and Michael would answer questions that Harry asked behind a screen, and Harry would pick who he liked better and wanted to date in the end. No, reality isn’t a game show, either. That was stupid too. Somehow, Louis had to prove that he was better for Harry than Michael. But how could he even go about doing that? He had absolutely no idea why Harry decided to start dating Michael in the first place.  
Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
Louis looked over at his phone, saw the picture of himself eating a piece of chicken, and immediately smiled to himself. Speak of the devil.  
Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
Right. He should probably pick up.  
“Hello?”  
“Brownies or pumpkin pie?” Louis was taken back by the question.  
“What?”  
“Should I make brownies, or a pumpkin pie?”  
“I have no idea.”  
“Which one do you like better?” This was a really strange reason for Harry to call, and Louis couldn’t help but inwardly giggle. It was ridiculous how talking to Harry about this one little thing could make him the happiest he’d been in all day.  
“It depends on the mood I’m in.”  
“Well…what mood are you in this week?” Louis thought about it for a second,  
“Umm…probably pumpkin pie.”  
“Okay.”  
“Why?”  
“I’m gonna make a pumpkin pie on Wednesday; wanna come over for dinner?” Did Harry just invite Louis over for dinner? Or did Louis mishear something?  
“I’m sorry, what?”  
“I promised you at lunch that I would make you dinner sometime, and I’m gonna make pumpkin pie on Wednesday, and you’re in the mood for pumpkin pie, so you might as well come over for dinner.” Louis leaned back in his chair and tried to stifle the giggle that was about to come out of his mouth by covering his mouth with his hand. Okay, so that did just happen. This seemed way too easy.  
“This is all apart of some secret plan to get me to your apartment, isn’t it?” He heard Harry gasp,  
“How’d you know?”  
“You’re easy to read.”  
“So are you.”  
“The cover of your book is transparent.”  
“Wait: you can see all of my organs?”  
“Skin is an organ.” Louis pointed out. Harry quietly laughed,  
“Well played, Tomlinson…well played.”  
“Aren’t you supposed to be the doctor?”  
“I’m not at work right now, therefore I’m not required to know anything.”  
“I’m at work right now, and I still know more than you.”  
“You’re still at work?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Why? It’s seven o’clock; what time does everyone leave?”  
“Everyone is usually gone by five thirty.”  
“Oh…why do you stay?” ‘Because I have nothing to go home to’ Louis thought.  
“I dunno. I like to stay productive.”  
“Have you ever heard of this thing called relaxing?”  
“I haven’t been relaxed in years.”  
“Maybe some homemade pumpkin pie can fix that.” Louis chuckled,  
“You’re very adamant about this pie.”  
“It’s World famous.”  
“Did you enter it in the International pie competition last year?”  
“I did.”  
“Really? Did you win?”  
“Yep.”  
“Damn, I didn’t check the results last year. If only I’d known sooner.”  
“Well…if you come over, you can try it for yourself.” Louis bit the top of his bottom lip, trying to hide his smile from…well, what was he trying to hide his smile from? No one was even here.  
“It’s a tempting offer.”  
“You’d be stupid not to take it.” Louis paused for a moment, if only to make Harry a bit anxious.  
“Okay, fine. But let it be known that I’m only coming for the pie, not to see you.”  
“Good enough for me. But leave work at five thirty like normal people so we won’t be eating at midnight.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Cool. So…what’re you doing now?”  
“Working on Autodesk.”  
“Oh, nice.” Harry said in a light voice.  
“You have no idea what that is, do you?”  
“Nope. Not a clue.”  
“It’s a program where I can make computed animated models.”  
“What’re you making right now?”  
“The building for an organic market.”  
“Oh, that’s awesome!”  
“Yeah. How was your day?”  
“It was good…pretty busy; you never really know what you’re gonna get.”  
“I can definitely attest to that.”  
“Yeah…” Harry chuckled and then paused for a moment. Louis could tell he wanted to say something, so he patiently waited. “So, ummm, I feel like I should apologize. For Sunday.” Oh. Louis was definitely not expecting this. Now he had to act coy and pretend it was a perfect day.  
“Why? It was fine.”  
“No, it wasn’t. I, ummm, I didn’t mean to put you in that situation.” Wow. Harry was actually addressing the uncomfortable circumstance of Louis meeting Michael. Fucking Michael.  
“It’s not your fault.”  
“No, I know, it’s just…you probably shouldn’t have met him like that.” Louis could almost hear the pout in Harry’s voice. Now Louis felt extraordinarily guilty for how he treated Michael. “Especially since it was just supposed to be a day for us to hang out. We shouldn’t have gone in the first place – ”  
“Haz. It’s okay, seriously.” Harry paused for a moment,  
“You’re sure?” This now turned into one of those situations where Louis wanted to be there in person with Harry to discuss this, only so he could reassure him through words and touch…even if the touch could only be him patting Harry’s arm.  
“Yeah.” Harry let out a long sigh,  
“Okay.” Harry paused again, and Louis could tell even through the phone he was intently thinking about something. Louis tried to focus on his computer screen, but nothing except the gentle breathing of Harry was being processed in his brain. “He’s usually nicer.”  
“What?”  
“Michael: he’s usually really nice.” Okay: now this was kind of awkward. Louis decided to lie to make Harry feel okay.  
“He was nice.”  
“He was being kinda rude to you…” Louis was actually relieved that Harry noticed it too.  
“There were only a few comments – ”  
“He gets protective sometimes. Which, it’s nice, but he always takes it to the next level, like someone is trying to personally attack him…I dunno – It’s…I dunno.”  
“I don’t really blame him.” The words were out of Louis’ mouth before he even realized he said them. But it was the truth. If he was with Harry, he would be protective too.  
“You don’t?”  
“Not really.”  
“Why?”  
“Well…I mean, he should be protective over you. You deserve someone who’s gonna stick up for you.”  
“Sometimes I feel like he’s trying to protect himself, though, and using me as a shield.” Louis wrote that down on a note in his mind.  
“What d’you mean?”  
“I…I don’t really know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be talking to you about this.”  
“No, no, it’s okay. You can talk to me about anything.”  
“Yeah…yeah, I know. Same goes for you.”  
“I know.”  
“Okay. Sorry, I’ll let you get back to your work.” Louis wanted to tell him to keep talking; it didn’t have to be about Michael, it could be anything. Louis just wanted to keep talking to Harry. “See you Wednesday around sixish then?” Shit, he forgot to say anything to make Harry stay.  
“Umm, yeah, definitely.”  
“Okay…cool. I’ll see you then.”  
“Yeah, see you then.”  
“Okay…umm, bye.”  
“Bye.”

 

Louis got to Harry’s building at 6:07. It was a beige building with five floors, located just a few blocks away from CHOP. Harry was on the fourth floor. Only two apartments separated Harry’s from where the elevator was, and Louis couldn’t help but worry if Harry was bothered by the consistent buzz of the elevator, which was really stupid to worry about in the place. Louis hesitantly knocked on his door, number 401. It opened up in less than three seconds. Harry stood there with a beaming grin, clad in grey sweatpants, a thin purple sweater, and barefoot on the hardwood floor.  
“Hi.”  
“Hey.” Louis just stood there, admiring the gorgeous, handsome, and beautiful man standing in front of him. This was Harry. He looked so mature, but still so similar to how he looked when he was a teenager. A part of Louis still couldn’t really believe that this was happening to him. If someone told him a month ago that he would be standing here right now, he definitely wouldn’t have believed them. In fact, he probably would’ve kicked them in the balls and told them ‘that’s how you just made my life feel’.  
“You can come in, you know.”  
“Yeah, right. Sorry.” Harry chuckled before moving backwards to let Louis in. He was instantly greeted to a warm aroma of pumpkin, cinnamon, nutmeg, and everything that reminded him of comfort. It was the definition of ‘inviting’. Harry’s entire apartment was light; the walls were painted a soft yellow with a white trim, there were various pictures hanging on the walls, the hardwood floors were glossed and they seemed to glisten, and everywhere Louis looked, things were glowing. Not literally, but everything had a special sort of gleam to it that was so uniquely Harry.  
“Welcome to my safe haven.”  
“Safe haven?” Harry chuckled,  
“Yeah.”  
“I dunno how smart it was of you to let me into your safe haven.” He said while toeing off his shoes and putting his coat on the rack by the door, right on top of Harry’s. A part of Louis hoped that when he put it back on later tonight, it would smell like Harry.  
“Damn, you’re right.”  
“Too late now.”  
“It appears to be that way.”  
“Well, might as well make the best out of this horrible situation you’ve gotten yourself into and give me a tour.”  
“A tour will cost you a ten dollars.” Louis dropped his jaw open in mock-shock, and Harry held up his hands, “Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”  
“Well, I’m gonna be eating your food, so if anything, someone should pay me for risking my life.” Harry playfully rolled his eyes.  
“Your life isn’t in danger.”  
“I don’t know what you put in the food.” Harry stuck out his tongue at Louis, and Louis reciprocated the action. “What’d you make anyway?”  
“You have to wait and find out. C’mon.” Harry walked forward to the small area that had a plush white couch with a plaid flannel blanket draped over the top of it, across from a flat screen television with a coffee table in between, a matching plush white reading chair to the left of the couch, and a bookshelf pushed off next to the wall. The bookshelf wasn’t only filled with books; instead, it had a shelf of books, a shelf dedicated to picture frames, two shelves dedicated CD cases, and the top shelf was composed of a few trinkets as well as a small stereo. “This is the living room.”  
“CDs, Haz?”  
“Yeah…”  
“Don’t tell me you’re stuck in two-thousand-three.”  
“I like buying CDs; it's nice actually having something to actually hold.”  
“That’s respectable, I guess.” Louis wanted to go up to each frame to examine each picture, but Harry kept walking forward.  
“C’mon.” Harry walked down the short hallway and opened the only door on the left. “This is the bathroom. And yes, the mirror is a cabinet.” Louis peaked inside the tiled-room. His corner shower took up the majority of the room, and the glass door to it only made Louis imagine what it would be like to pin Harry up against it while they were taking a shower together and – okay, he needed to get out of here right now.  
“Nice.” He quickly said before backing out. Harry continued to walk to the end of the hallway and opened the door in the center. Louis followed his footsteps and was greeted to a small bedroom, or maybe it only looked small because Harry had a king sized bed in it. Louis didn’t really think or observe anything else before flopping down on it stomach first; it felt like falling onto a soft, plush cloud. He dug his nose into the white sheets and inhaled the scent. It was sweet, kind of like a green apple, but also a bit musky. It was definitely Harry’s scent.  
“Are you still ticklish?” Louis rolled onto his back and looked up at Harry, who was looking down at him with bright eyes and a wicked smile. Shit.  
“Don’t even think abo – ” Harry cut him off mid-word while lunging down so he was straddling Louis’ torso, grabbing both sides of Louis’ waist, and promptly tickling him, sending Louis in hysterics as he tried to fight off Harry. He didn’t actually want Harry to get off, though. “Stopppp! We’re – not – twelve!” He managed to get out in between laughs. Harry laughed from his stomach, sending the vibration to the bottom half of Louis’ body and – okay, Harry actually needed to get off now because blood was rushing to the wrong place. “Get off!” He yelled while actually using all the strength he had to push Harry off this time. This could become a very inappropriate situation if Louis got a full on boner, and he could feel a hard-on starting to form. Somehow, he managed to push Harry so he rolled to the left of him, and he took this opportunity to quickly jump off of the bed. He stood up on shaky legs, his face feeling like it as a thousand degrees, and pulled down his sweater. When he looked down at the bed, Harry was sprawled out on his back, looking up at Louis with hooded eyelids and an open mouth.  
Fuck. The World wasn’t playing nice at all.  
“Stop lying around and make me food.” This seemed to snap Harry out of whatever trance he was in as he shut his mouth, widened his eyes, and hopped off of the bed. Louis thought he was going to go by him and out the bedroom door, but when he walked by, he quickly squeezed his hand on Louis left hip: “Stop!” Louis tried to catch Harry’s hand, but Harry retrieved it too quickly and then ran out of the room and down the hallway with a cackle.  
Damn it, Harry was such a little shit.

 

The dinner was three courses. It was probably one of the strangest combinations ever known to man, but everything ended up being delicious anyway. Harry started out with an appetizer of bruschetta with tomato and mozzarella, an entrée of chicken fajitas, and the World-famous pumpkin pie with homemade whipped cream for dessert. Louis had no idea how, but the flavors strangely complimented each other. He also had no idea when Harry learned how to cook, but he made one hell of a fajita.  
They ate at the breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the living room. The breakfast bar was nice, though, because in between courses, Louis could just watch Harry and continue to talk to him since he refused to let Louis help him clean up. Harry didn’t actually have a dining table, which Louis found a bit ironic; Harry cooked but didn’t have a table, whereas Louis bought take out and never utilized his dining table, usually opting for eating on his couch instead. In fact, their living situations were quite different. Harry’s apartment seemed like it was about to burst because it was too small for the amount of stuff he tried to fit in it. Louis’ apartment was far too big for him alone to fill up.  
Afterwards, Harry decided he wasn’t in the mood to wash the dishes, so after a five second argument, Louis forcefully helped him load up the dishwasher. Harry proceeded to fling himself over the top of his couch so he was lying down the length of it. Louis decided to get back at him for the tickling earlier, so he sat straight on top of Harry’s stomach.  
“Omf.” Harry let out as soon as Louis placed himself over the middle of Harry’s body. Louis could feel Harry’s soft chuckles as his stomach contracted. “I ate too much! Off.”  
“You were the idiot who decided to make a three course meal.”  
“You said I couldn’t cook, so I had to prove you wrong.”  
“You’ve gone from pasta to fajitas. It’s an improvement, but not by that much.”  
“And bruschetta.” Louis smirked to himself,  
“And bruschetta.” He repeated.  
“And pie.”  
“Yes, and pie.”  
“You liked it, though.” Louis leaned back, placing his entire body weight on Harry’s stomach, which made Harry breathily chuckle again.  
“Don’t get cocky.”  
“You think you can cook better than me?”  
“I do make a mean chicken parmesan.”  
“Then make it for me.”  
“Are you inviting yourself back over to my place?” Harry broke out into a huge grin,  
“Nothing gets past you, Scooby Doo.”  
“No, no, no, don’t even try that. I remember when you went out as Scooby Doo for Halloween in seventh grade.” Harry let his head fall back against the pillow as he began to try and full out laugh. The feeling and sound just made Louis laugh.  
“I can’t l–laugh normally w–with you o–on me.”  
“Good.”  
“Mmm.” Harry’s stomach slowly stopped bouncing, and the room fell quiet. He used both of his hands to lightly grab onto the hem of Louis’ sweater and rubbed it between his fingertips. Harry was looking up at Louis with red cheeks and a small closed mouth smile on his face; his facial expression was so soft, and Louis could tell by the strain in his own cheeks and eyes that he was probably staring at Harry very similarly. “Red’s a good color on you.” He whispered. Louis lifted his right hand and patted Harry’s left cheek with it.  
“I think you’ve had a bit too much red wine.”  
“Probably.” Neither of them bothered to move their hands. Their eyes stayed locked onto each other’s. There wasn’t another thing in the entire room. Louis noticed the deep, sapphire blue rims that surrounded the splashes of jade, emerald, honey due, pine, and mint green in Harry’s irises. He was looking at Harry, and Louis swore that the night stopped. There was no such thing as darkness. Louis felt like he couldn’t physically look away; he was mesmerized by the illumination beaming out of Harry’s eyes.  
This was the perfect moment for Louis to lean down and kiss the living daylight out of Harry’s mouth. God, Louis wanted to do it. His entire body was practically aching with all-consuming desire.  
He couldn’t do it, though.  
Louis cared for Harry too much to risk…whatever they were doing by kissing him. They’d only met up for the first time in sixteen years exactly two weeks ago. It was hard to deny the mutual attraction that clearly still existed between them, but it had only been two weeks. How sure could Louis be in two weeks that he was still in…whatever…with Harry? If he wanted to win over Harry for good, he needed to prove to him first that he was worth keeping. It wasn’t just a relationship Louis wanted with Harry; Louis wanted a life with him. Besides, this would technically count as Harry cheating on Michael if Louis kissed him. And Louis couldn’t let that happen, because what if Harry thought it was a mistake afterwards? Harry would feel guilty, and then probably leave Louis for good after the building was renovated. Plus, Louis didn’t want to put them both in an awkward situation if the torch Louis carried for Harry wasn’t also held by Harry…although, right now it seemed like…well, fuck.  
Harry was looking at Louis like he was the only thing that had ever existed in the World. And Harry’s cheek…his cheek was so soft. His skin was so warm and smooth, and it was evident that he’d recently shaven. The feel of Louis’ short shadow beard on Harry’s skin would be angelic and –  
Shit, he needed to get up. Like right now.  
Louis abruptly brought his hand back to his body, and he tried not to observe Harry’s face slightly move to the left, as if it was chasing Louis’ hand. He forced himself to stand up, and his sweater skid out of Harry’s fingertips. “I should probably get going.” He said while pulling his sweater down. Harry was slowly lifting himself up off of the couch.  
“Ummm, yeah. Okay.” His voice sounded raspy. Louis really didn’t want to think about why that was, so he just let it be. He turned around and walked towards the door to put on his shoes and coat.  
“Thanks for dinner. Much better than the stuff I pick up on the way back to my place.”  
“We should do this again, then.” Harry was suggesting it, and who was Louis to deny a free home cooked meal?  
“Yeah, that’d actually be pretty nice.”  
“I can’t promise it’ll always be a three course meal…or that there’ll be pumpkin pie.”  
“That’s okay. You’re sweet enough to make up for the lack of pie.” Shit. Did that seriously just come out of his mouth? It was a good thing that he wasn’t currently looking at Harry because his own face was probably as red as a beet. He really needed to tone down the flirting.  
“Oh good. I was afraid you were just gonna use me for my food.”  
“Well then I guess today is your lucky day.” Louis turned around to see Harry standing not even a foot away from him.  
“I guess so.”  
“I’ll, um, see you soon then?”  
“Yeah, course.” They stood there, just looking at each other for a few seconds. It would be so easy for Louis to lunge forward and connect his lips with Harry’s. It would be so easy for him to lift up Harry’s sweater – okay. These thoughts were getting out of hand. Louis cleared his throat,  
“Okay.” Harry held out his arms and Louis wasted no time walking into them. This was so much better than the hug he received at the pub on Sunday, probably due to the fact that there was no fucking Michael trying to pull Harry out of the door. This time, just like many before, it was just Harry and Louis. Louis and Harry. He could even feel Harry’s heartbeat with their chests flushed up upon one another. Louis let go first, and Harry’s arms lingered around Louis’ torso for a second longer before he let go. Harry opened the door, and Louis stepped out with a “See you soon.”

 

When he got back to his apartment, his entire outfit smelled like Harry.  
As he was lying wide-awake in his bed that night, a memory came back into Louis’ mind. It happened when he was out eating in Florence with Liam and Zayn. The restaurant hired a singer who played the guitar to walk around table to table and play songs that customers requested. Louis, being the little shit that he is, asked him to play an original song, thinking the guy would be dumbfounded. Of course, he’d been shown up, and the lyrics to the song were, “Amore é gioia, amore é gelosia, amore é soffrire, amore é tenerezza, amore é calore. Amore sei tu.” Louis understood that he was singing about love, but he had to humiliatingly ask him for the translation afterwards because he wanted to know the exact meaning. It translated into “Love is joy, love is jealousy, love is suffering, love is tenderness, love is hot. Love is you.”  
Those lyrics were extremely relevant to Louis’ life.  
Those lyrics described Harry.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi wonderful, beautiful, magnificent readers!!!!  
> I'm sorry that this took two weeks to update, but I think that's going to be the new normal now. Thank you all for your patience, and I'm sorry to make you wait so long!!!  
> Thank you once again for your tremendous support: when I say that it keeps me writing, I really mean that. You're a fantastic group of dedicated, supportive readers (and to the new audience: hello!!! You're wonderful too for reading all of this and I'm glad to have you on board!!!) and I'm so thankful for it. Really, thank you, thank you, thank you!!!! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this update, and I'd love to hear your feedback!!! :)

It sort of became a ‘thing’ after that. Harry would call Louis around seven every weeknight, and they would spend their time talking about everything and nothing, just like they had when they were younger. At first, the conversations only lasted around twenty minutes because Harry would always say, “I’m sorry, I should let you get back to work”. In all actuality, Louis completely forgot about work when he was talking to Harry; he could be staring at his blaringly bright computer screen, it could be screaming ‘work on me!’ right into his ears at an alarmingly high decibel, and he wouldn’t even notice or give it any attention. After Louis assured Harry that he wasn’t working anyway, it turned into forty-minute conversations. And then it was nine o’clock and they were still talking. On Thursday, he continued to talk to Harry on his walk home. Of course, this only made him forget to buy dinner, so he ended up eating cold, leftover pizza, which Harry yelled at him for because that wasn’t a “proper Thursday night dinner”.  
Louis began to plan his days around talking to Harry. If something weird happened during the day, he would make sure to write it down so he wouldn’t forget about it when they talked later on. He purposely got more done in the day, and started wrapping up his work ten minutes before seven each night. In fact, this new routine strangely made him more productive than he’d been in years. He accomplished more now than he ever had in the past. Louis felt like he had something to work for now, and that feeling was amazing.  
Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
Louis didn’t even wait to pick up.  
“Bonjour.”  
“What’s your policy on opening doors for strangers?” Harry truly had a knack for asking random questions.  
“What?”  
“If there was a stranger at your door, would you open it?”  
“This is one of the most questionable things you’ve ever asked me.”  
“Well, there’s a stranger outside of your door, and I was wondering if you would open it.”  
“Wait…what?” Louis heard Harry lightly chuckle,  
“Never mind. Just open the door to your firm; it’s locked.” Wait: was Harry at his firm? In this building? Right now? What?  
“Are you out there?”  
“Possibly.” Louis stood up from his chair and began to walk towards the door,  
“What the hell are you up to, Harold?”  
“Open ze door to fynd owt.” He spoke in a hybrid German-Russian accent.  
“My Mom told me to never open doors for strangers.”  
“Good thing I’m not a stranger then.” Louis walked to the main door of the firm, and through the glass pane he saw Harry, standing in the hallway with a shit-eating grin on his face, wearing his pea coat and black dress pants, and holding two brown Whole Foods bags in the crook of his elbow. Well then: this was a fantastic Friday night surprise. Louis just laughed and hung up his phone while walking to the door. When he stood in front of it, he decided to make this into a game and not let Harry in so quickly; he was eager, but he didn’t want to actually seem too eager.  
“Fancy seeing you here.”  
“Let me in.” His voice was muffled by the glass. Louis pointed to the door handle.  
“It’s locked, though.” Harry fondly rolled his eyes with a smile and slumped his shoulders,  
“You can unlock it.”  
“Really?”  
“Stop being sarcastic.”  
“What’s a sarcastic…?”  
“I have food: real food!”  
“Did you make it?”  
“I picked it up on my way here from work.”  
“You came here from work?”  
“Yes. So open the door.” Part of Louis questioned why Harry decided to come here after work. That involved either taking a train or a bus, which cost money. He also bought food for the both of them, and from Whole Foods nonetheless, so that cost even more money. Okay: Harry was willingly ready to spend fifty dollars on Louis. And it was a Friday night…shouldn’t he be with Michael?  
Maybe Louis was just over thinking again.  
“What’s the password?”  
“Are you serious?”  
“Yes. Password?”  
“Ummm…Harry brought food.”  
“Nope.”  
“Harry is amazing for bringing me food.”  
“No; it doesn’t relate to food.”  
“Ummm…Harry is my favorite person ever.” Louis noticed the glint in his eye and decided to play with it.  
“Wrong name.”  
“Ummm…you.”  
“Me?”  
“Yeah, you.”  
“You need to say the entire phrase.”  
“Why?”  
“In your words: ‘I don’t make up the rules’.”  
“Louis is my favorite person ever.”  
“I am?” Harry’s grin beamed with light as he walked forward and banged his forehead against the door. Why was Harry such a loveable…man? It was actually getting a bit ridiculous how enamored Louis was with Harry in less than a month. He was so similar to the cheery, sweet, endearing teenage Harry, but he was much more mature now. Granted, a lot had changed in sixteen years, but Harry was still Harry. The qualities Louis loved most about him when they were younger were still here today; Harry was kind, selfless, warmhearted, attentive, concerned, thoughtful, considerate, affectionate, compassionate, generous, devoted, and full of love.  
Harry was also really fucking attractive. But that was just an added bonus.  
“Open the door.” Louis finally gave in and unlocked the door. Harry walked in while fumbling with the brown bags, so Louis reached out to take one of the two. “No, I got it.”  
“No, you don’t; just give me one.”  
“It’s fine.” It was sort of sweet how much Harry felt the need to carry both bags. It was also kind of stupid, and Louis wasn’t about to eat food that fell onto the ground.  
“You’re gonna drop it.”  
“Then we’ll eat like dogs.” Louis didn’t hesitate to grab the larger bag out of Harry’s grasp, and Harry gave it up with a surprised smile. If Louis had to take a guess, he would guess that this sort of banter would become another ‘thing’ for them. It was remarkably similar to when Harry didn’t want Louis to help him clean up last week, but Louis did anyway because that was just stupid. Harry could be a gentleman, but only to a certain extent. It didn’t mean he should continually refuse help for things he clearly needed help with. There was a line between being modest, and just being stupid. In Louis’ eyes, Harry was stupidly modest.  
“What’s the occasion?”  
“You need a real dinner.” This defined Harry: doing something for the good and concern of someone else. Louis was a bit winded at the fact that Harry wasn’t doing this for just anyone. Harry wasn’t just randomly showing up at someone else’s workplace at on a Friday night. Harry wasn’t spending an unnecessary amount of money on just anyone. Harry didn’t bring dinner to somebody else because he was concerned about them not eating a legitimate meal.  
Harry was doing this all for Louis.  
“What’d you bring?” He asked while peeking into the bag.  
“Ummm, well I got two cheeseburgers with lettuce and tomato. Oh, and I remembered that you used to like the pickles on your burger, so I put pickles on yours…I hope you still like that.” It was a small, little preference that Harry somehow managed to hold onto. Just the idea of Harry remembering how Louis liked his burgers sixteen years ago made a swarm of butterflies attack Louis’ stomach: Harry still remembered.  
“Yeah, no, I still do.”  
“Okay. Good. I also got French fries, a container of mixed berries, and a few different kinds of iced teas because I wasn’t sure which one you would like. Oh, and cupcakes. I got cupcakes too.” Harry wasn’t a real person. He couldn’t be, because this was unbelievable. But at the same time, this was so incredibly and predictably Harry. This was exactly something Harry would do, so it was believable. Maybe the situation itself was inconceivable, but it was Harry who made the situation within the bounds of reality. It was Harry who made everything believable. It was the sense that when Louis was with Harry, nothing was out of the range of possibility. Life was just better with Harry in it.  
‘Fuck,’ Louis thought, ‘I’m so screwed over.’  
“You didn’t have to do this.” Harry shrugged. He was smiling with a tightly closed mouth, but his dimples were showing; it was obvious he was trying to contain some type of emotion.  
“I wanted to. Where should we eat?”  
“Meeting room, probably.” Louis began to lead the way to the meeting room, while Harry trailed behind him through the dimly lit office floor.  
“I like the colors.” Louis turned his head to the side to look at Harry, and used his eyes as means for asking further clarification of the comment. “Of this place. It feels very…ummm…homey.”  
“Homey?”  
“Yeah. I don’t really know why, though.”  
“Okay then.” Louis turned his head forwards and kicked open the unlatched door while using his free hand to turn on the light switch. The room was filled with an artificial white light, and Louis began to wonder if the room was always this unnaturally fluorescent. He and Harry took seats directly across from each other, and Harry took off his coat to reveal that he was wearing a blue-collared shirt and a tie with yellow rubber ducks on it.  
“Duck tie?”  
“Kids like it.”  
“I like it too; it’s very you.” Harry’s cheeks were slowly tinted over with a light pink, like somebody was applying a powder onto his cheeks. Louis was vaguely reminded of the sixteen-year-old Harry who, in comparison to the current Harry, would have chubby, red cheeks whenever Louis complimented him.  
“I have a ton more where this came from.”  
“Can’t wait to see them.”  
“Who say’s you’re gonna see them?”  
“Next time I go over to your place, I’m looking through your entire tie drawer.” Harry looked up, his expression happily surprised, and connected their gazes to one another.  
“When are you coming over again?”  
“Whenever you want me to.”  
“Ummm…well aren’t we going out on Wednesday anyway to visit the building?”  
“Yeah, but I have to come back here afterwards.”  
“Oh, right…ummm, next Sunday? I would say this Sunday but I’m going out with Michael.” Louis would be lying if he said that every time Harry spoke that name, it didn’t feel like a bullet being shot into his gut at a thousand miles per hour with the force of a comet that was rapidly sucked down into the Earth’s gravitational pull.  
“Yeah, that’s fine.”  
“Okay, cool.” The two of them put the bags down on the table and began unpacking the food. Louis saw Harry’s gaze shift to the city mural on the wall…okay, so what if he was paying more attention to Harry than anything else in the room? There was nothing better to look at anyway. “Zayn’s really talented.”  
“I don’t even think the word ‘talented’ does him justice.”  
“Was he always this way?”  
“Ever since I’ve known him, yeah. When I met him, he was more into cartoons and graffiti, that sort of thing. I think the years spent in the studio got to him, though, because now he just draws things in his own time that are worthy of having their own exhibit in the Met or something.”  
“That’s really cool.”  
“Yeah…sometimes I wish I could be half as talented as he is.”  
“You are talented.”  
“I’m good, but…like, that’s about it.” Harry frowned at that,  
“What are you talking about?”  
“Like…I might be good at drawing, but Zayn’s better. I might be good at designing and putting the blueprints together, but Liam’s better. I might be good at CAD, but two of my employees are hands down better than me. I’m good at talking to people and fixing little things, but people are always gonna be better than me. I’m not perfect or the best at anything.”  
“You do realize that you’re kinda screwing yourself over.” Could Harry suddenly read minds or something? Louis knew he was screwed over, but he didn’t fully understand why Harry thought so too. “There’s no such thing as the best. It’s just, like…it’s an ideal.” Louis looked questionably at Harry, and once again used his eyes to ask Harry to explain his statement. “Like…okay: you have this idea in your mind that you think there’s this model of utopia that you have to live up to. That’s the best. But, how are you supposed to live up to utopia? It’s just an imagined place where everything is perfect; you basically set yourself up for failure, because how are you supposed to live up to perfection? You can spend your entire life searching for that perfect…thing. But nothing can ever match up to it, and you feel incomplete because of that…y’know?” Louis thought about that for a few seconds: the idea of a utopia. But, was it only an idea?  
“What if utopia isn’t imagined, though? What if it’s a real place?”  
“Then…then I guess we won’t stop searching until we get there. And we’ll spend our lives feeling incomplete until we do get there.” Something about this made so much sense. If Louis started at the top, he could only fall. He’d set his standards up so high, that there was no possible way to get up there. Or maybe…maybe he’d been in utopia, if only for a bit at one point in his life. Maybe he’d experienced utopia once upon a time, that after that time, absolutely nothing else could match up to it. Maybe that’s why he’d been so frustrated and unsatisfied for years now.  
Or, maybe this was just Harry being Harry. Sometimes Louis wished he could dive into Harry’s mind to see first hand what actually went on in there; it could probably be the Eighth Wonder of the World.  
“Are you sure you have your doctorate in medicine? Because you sound like a stoned philosophy major right now.” Harry smiled,  
“Niall always used to say I looked like a stoner.”  
“Really?”  
“I used to have really long hair – ”  
“You refused to cut it.”  
“Yeah…I really don’t know what the motive was for that.”  
“It was nice to put my fingers through.” The words mindlessly came out of Louis’ mouth and his stomach dropped.  
Shit.  
He shouldn’t have said that. That wasn’t something he should’ve said. When he looked up at Harry, his cheeks were now transformed into a deep crimson red, and he was biting his bottom lip.  
Shit. He needed to get away from this topic right now. “You looked like a stoner?” Harry coughed to clear out his throat.  
“Ummm…yeah.” Shit. Louis needed to act casual.  
“How’d you manage that?”  
“I…umm, wore, like, bandanas, and I would never close the top four buttons of my shirts. At one point I was into jeans that had holes in them – ”  
“Were you a stoned pirate or something?” This made Harry deeply laugh, having to use his stomach to get out the sound. Okay, good. This was casual. This was good.  
“No, it was just…I never felt the need to put in effort.”  
“I’m kinda intrigued of what this looked like.”  
“I’ll find a picture and show it to you.”  
“I’m gonna hold you to it.”  
“I can probably find a few pictures tonight and come over to your apartment for dinner tomorrow.” Okay. This was definitely not casual talk. But Harry was treating it like casual talk, so Louis decided not to go against it.  
“Tomorrow?”  
“Yeah. You said you’d make me that chicken parm: don’t think I forgot about that.” Of course Louis didn’t forget, he just didn’t know how to invite Harry over to his place. Apparently, Harry could invite himself over, though, so that was perfectly okay with Louis. There was no way in Hell that he would deny that. If this was the tide Harry wanted to go down, who was Louis to object?  
“No, I didn’t. I – ummm, yeah, sure. Tomorrow’s fine.”  
“Cool. I’ll be there around six thirty?”  
“Okay…I guess I have to go food shopping tomorrow morning.”  
“I would help you, but I wanna know just how bad your cooking is first.” Harry said with a smirk.  
“Is that a challenge?”  
“Did it not come out as one?”  
“Alright. Fine.”  
“Fine. Now try a blueberry.” Harry pushed forward the container of berries and Louis did as he was told. The one he ate was bitter, and his face scrunched up as he tried to swallow it.  
“That was disgusting.”  
“Good to know.” Harry put the lid back onto the container.  
“Wait: did you just use me as your taste tester guinea pig?” Harry let out a loud cackle and didn’t even try to cover it up.  
“Oops.”  
“You little sneak!” Louis took the lid back off, grabbed a handful of blueberries, and threw them directly at Harry; they bombarded his face, and Harry was now grasping his stomach from laughing so hard. With his lips widely opened up from laughing, Louis threw another blueberry, this time aiming for his mouth. The blueberry bounced off his front teeth, and Harry lost it, throwing his whole body back in laughter. Louis loved the look of Harry’s face, scarlet with laughter. He loved the way his dimples became craters on the moon. He loved the look of Harry’s eyes, squinted closed and tears falling out of them. He loved the sound of Harry’s laughter. He just loved everything about Harry.  
“Wait, Lou, Lou, Lou, try and throw it in my mouth.”  
“You have the mental capacity of a nine year old.”  
“C’mon, try!” Harry’s eyes were wide and bright in wonder, joy, and awe. Harry’s entire face was bright. Hell, his whole body was bright, radiating and glowing with warmth. There was absolutely no circumstance that would give Louis the ability say no to him. He picked out the biggest blueberry in the container, spent a solid three seconds aiming for Harry’s mouth, then gently threw it into the air, where it soared until it descended downwards into the landing pad, which was Harry’s tongue. Harry threw his arms up in the air, yelling “Whooooooo!” at the same time Louis cheered,  
“Goooooooooal!”  
Maybe this was an odd way to spend his Friday night, but it was definitely the most fun he’d had on a Friday night in years.

 

It’s not like Louis was nervous the next day.  
Maybe he ran an extra mile in the morning. Maybe he washed his hair two times in the shower. Maybe he didn’t need coffee for energy. Maybe he bought the most expensive chicken in the grocery store. Maybe he bought the most expensive beer, wine, and vodka from the brewer’s outlet. Maybe he went around his apartment and dusted everything off. Maybe he spent an hour picking out clothes and trying them on before deciding to wear blue jeans and a slim fitting maroon sweater. Maybe he spent fifteen minutes styling his hair to make it look perfectly imperfect. Maybe he spent a solid three hours cooking and setting the dinner table.  
Fine: he was really fucking nervous. So sue him.  
But this was Harry. And Harry deserved nothing less than all the effort that Louis possibly had. So Louis exerted himself until there was nothing else he could physically do except wait for Harry.  
Waiting was a bitch, though.  
It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t stressed out about the night going well. There was no reason it would go bad, it was just…what if his apartment wasn’t clean enough? What if his cooking wasn’t good enough? What if Harry unexpectedly canceled? What if Louis did something he would regret? What if he said something he would regret? What if –  
Fuck. He seriously needed to stop over thinking.  
Finally there was a knock on the door that pulled Louis out of his nervous mind and into his nervous body. He wasn’t sure which one he preferred; while his mind was racing with questions, his body was shaking with nerves. And for what reason? This was Harry. Just Harry. His friend. His buddy. His pal. Harry Edward Styles.  
Fuck, even his name could send a shockwave of shivers down his spine.  
When he opened the door, Harry was standing there looking as handsome as ever and yep: Louis wanted to kiss him.  
“Hey!” Apparently they’d gotten to the point where Harry didn’t need to be invited in. He just waltzed into the apartment like he owned it and forgot the key. His coat made it onto the coat rack, his bag made it onto a chair, and his shoes made their way next to Louis’. “It smells good in here. How was your day?” This was absolutely ridiculous. Harry didn’t live here, but he acted so nonchalantly like he owned the lease to this place. Like he lived here. With Louis. And this was just a normal thing for them.  
Harry truly had a gift for burrowing himself into Louis’ life.  
“Um – good, yeah. It was good. You?”  
“Mine was fine. No major injuries or diseases where I was today so that’s always good.” Did the hole Harry was digging in Louis’ soul count as a major injury or disease? Because it definitely felt like it should.  
“Yeah, that’s good.”  
“Heads up: I forgot the pictures. But I do have them, they’re just at my place.”  
“So the only reason that you came here – ”  
“I came for the chicken parm too.”  
“Right. How could I forget about the three hours I spent laboring over this meal?”  
“You spent three hours making chicken?” Harry exclaimed in disbelief.  
“Cooking is a labor of love, Harry.”  
“This better be the greatest chicken I’ve ever had in my life if you spent three hours on it, then.”  
“Do you smell this place? It smells like the greatest meal patiently waiting in anticipation to be eaten.” Harry’s dimpled smile appeared on his face.  
“Okay, then lets stop talking about it and lets eat; I’m starving.”  
“Alright, alright, calm down: you sit down and I’ll get everything.” Louis began to walk into the kitchen to take the chicken out of the oven, and saw Harry follow him out of the corner of his eye. He turned around and Harry walked into him. Harry backed up a step, raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck, and awkwardly laughed to himself. It was extremely endearing. “You really need to work on your feet-eye coordination.”  
“I didn’t know you were gonna turn around.”  
“I’m kinda surprised that after sixteen years, your brain still can’t reach the distance to your feet.”  
“I’m not surprised that after sixteen years, you’re still as snarky as ever.” Louis chuckled and turned around to continue his three-step journey to the kitchen.  
“I said that I would get everything. You can sit.”  
“It’s okay: I wanna help.”  
“No, no, no. You wouldn’t let me help last time, so I’m not letting you help this time.”  
“Yeah, but I gave in last time.”  
“Well I’m not giving in.”  
“Yes you will.”  
“Says who?”  
“Me.”  
“And why would you think that?”  
“I’m charming.” Louis grabbed the oven mitt on the counter and put it on, swearing he could hear the smirk on Harry’s face without even looking at him.  
“You’ve been saying that a lot lately, but you’ve yet to put a charm on me.”  
“The keyword being ‘yet’.” Louis walked over to the oven, opened the door, and reached inside to grab the dish. “Don’t burn yourself.” Louis fondly rolled his eyes because that would be something Harry was worried about.  
“I’m not gonna burn myself; that’s what an oven mitt is for.”  
“Well I’ve burnt my arm with an oven mitt on before.”  
“I’m not as clumsy as you.”  
“You can still burn yourself.” Louis grabbed the dish and carefully took it out of the oven and placed it onto the stovetop.  
“Look, I didn’t burn myself.” When he looked up at Harry, he had a huge beaming grin on and was holding out a spatula.  
“It’s a miracle.”  
“You’re insane.” Harry shrugged.  
“Probably. You should put out a warrant against me.”  
“Maybe tomorrow; I think that would ruin our Saturday night.”  
“A man willing to compromise?” Harry playfully shook the spatula back and forth in his hand, looking at Louis with a mischievous glimmer in his eye. Fuck. Louis seriously could never say no to Harry. He reached out and took the spatula from Harry’s hand.  
“Yes. Now go get the plates off of the table.”  
“Okay. That smells good.” He commented before walking to the dining table.  
“Well you should get ready because it’s fucking delightful.”  
“I expect nothing less from you.”

 

Harry lied.  
Well, he didn’t lie, he just chose not to tell Louis that when he refilled their glasses, he mixed the red wine with vodka; the taste was as plain as day when Louis took the first sip. And Louis was strangely okay with being comfortably warm and tipsy throughout dinner. The second refill was about half-and-half, but the third was blatantly vodka based. Louis felt his cheeks and ears heat up because of the unexpected amount of alcohol in his system, but Harry looked just as flushed as how Louis felt, so he figured it was okay. Harry devoured three pieces of chicken and approximately half a loaf of bread; Louis didn’t realize how much of an appetite Harry had actually worked up during the day when he said that he was starving.  
It was nearing eight-thirty, and Louis was rinsing off the last dishes and putting them into the dishwasher. Harry was quietly humming to himself in the living room, taking small sips from his glass, and intently looking at pictures around the room. There was something extremely relaxed about their current state; everything felt so calm, normal, and surprisingly routined. This didn’t feel like it was the first time that they’d had dinner at Louis’, nor did it feel like a one-and-done thing. This was definitely something they would be doing for a long time.  
Louis put the last dish in, grabbed his glass, and walked over to where Harry was standing, holding a picture frame in his hand.  
“I don’t recognize that song.” Harry shifted his gaze up to meet Louis’, and a small smile appeared on his face.  
“Laughter Lines by Bastille?”  
“I didn’t know that the storming of the Bastille had a song.” Harry full out laughed at that; Louis didn’t realize his comment was actually that funny. That just made Louis more content, though, since they were getting back into the stage where Harry laughed at even the worst of his jokes.  
“No, Bastille is a band.”  
“Oh. Okay then.”  
“I have the song if you wanna hear it.”  
“Yeah, sure.” Harry put the picture frame and his glass onto the table next to the couch and pulled out his phone.  
“Do you have Bluetooth speakers?”  
“Umm, yeah, but you need the password to – ”  
“Your wi-fi is L dash Tommo?”  
“Yeah.” Harry held out his phone to Louis.  
“Put in the password?”  
“You do realize that you managed to invite yourself over for dinner and get into my wi-fi, both without me actually offering.”  
“You never said no.” Harry handed his phone over to Louis and he typed in the password,  
“I’m not gonna lie: this is pretty impressive. You, Liam, and Zayn are probably the only ones who I would ever do this for.” Louis returned the phone to Harry.  
“It’s a good thing I’m me then.”  
“I guess so.” Suddenly music filled the room through the tiny speakers. It started out with some synthesizer, and quite honestly, Louis wasn’t surprised at all that this was what Harry listened to.  
“This is what you were humming?”  
“Mhmm.” Harry put his phone back into his pant’s pocket and picked up the picture frame again. Louis knew what picture it was: he, Lottie, and his Dad standing in the snow next to their snowman. He was six, bundled up in a puffy blue coat, and Lottie was three, bundled up in a similar puffy coat, but hers was pink. His Dad had Lottie on his lap and his arm around Louis.  
“That’s when me, my Dad, and Lottie made a snowman together for the first time.”  
“I’m loving your squinty eyes and closed mouth smile.”  
“I was too cold to actually smile.” Harry chuckled.  
“When was it taken?”  
“When I was six so 1986 …I think…I think that was first grade. You go into first grade when you’re five or six, right?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Right. So that was first grade.” Harry bit his bottom lip and put down the picture.  
“I first met you in first grade.”  
“Yeah…” Harry quietly laughed to himself and slumped down onto the couch.  
“You gave me that stupid rock.”  
“You were a weird kid who wanted to watch cars instead of dig to China.”  
“You actually thought you were gonna get to China.”  
“Everybody but you did. I was being nice.” Louis sat down next to Harry and they stayed silent, listening to the song. The song was sort of hypnotic, and Louis felt like he was in a trance listening to it. ‘I’ll see you in the future when we’re older, and we are full of stories to be told. Cross my heart and hope to die, I’ll see you with your laughter lines.’  
“You always were nice to me.” Louis felt himself frown.  
“I guess.”  
“You guess so?”  
“You really think I was always nice to you?”  
“Yeah.” Louis pushed his lips together and gave Harry a look that said ‘really?’. “I mean…we had some rough times, but, like…you always looked out for me. And you would never do something if it wasn’t in my best interest.”  
“Harry, I was a selfish dick.”  
“I don’t get why you think that. You were always looking out for both of us…I guess I didn’t really see that back then…but you were.”  
“No – ”  
“Lou, I think you can trust me.” Louis looked down at his glass and swirled around the red liquid, his mind flashing back to the letter Harry had written him for his eighteenth birthday. If Louis could trust him, then…  
‘I think I’m falling for you’  
‘I think I’m falling for you’  
‘I think I’m falling for you’  
Louis had to force himself not to look at Harry in that moment. He needed to push that letter out of his mind.  
“I know. I just…I think that…” His train of thought stopped right there. He let out a huge breath and leaned his head against the back of the couch. ‘Changes on our hands and on our faces, memories are mapped out by the lines we’ll trace.’  
“What?”  
“You think so highly of me.”  
“You’re somebody who people should look up to.” Louis huffed out a breath at that.  
“That is about as far from the truth as you can get.”  
“No, it’s not. You would do anything for the people you care for…I’ve yet to meet somebody who even comes close to being as brave as you.” Louis shut his eyes and whispered out,  
“I’m not brave.”  
“Yeah, you are.”  
“No, Harry…I’m not…” Fuck. It was a good thing his eyes were closed because his throat was burning, and if he opened his eyes, they would burn just as hotly. Well, it was now or never. He might as well just say it now. “I’m still hiding from my parents.” It came out as another raspy whisper, as if his body didn’t want to say it, but knew it needed to be said. Harry stayed silent for a few moments before asking,  
“Umm…hiding…?” Louis could hear the uncertainty in Harry’s voice. He needed to tell him; Harry needed to know the truth. He deserved it when they were in High School, but Louis was never able to give it to him. He needed to make it up to Harry now.  
“I haven’t told them that I’m gay.” The words floated out of his mouth. He thought they would be trapped in the back of his throat, but they easily sauntered out into the room. And now Harry knew.  
“Oh.”  
“Yeah…” Even with music playing through the speakers, Louis could hear the gears violently turning in Harry’s head. They clacked and clanked together, creating sparks in the process that hit Louis’ body. ‘Are you going to age with grace? Are you going to age without mistakes?’ echoed in the space of the room. Louis recognized the voice to be the same singer of Laughter Lines, so Louis guessed it was still Bastille. This was definitely a new song, though, if the piano and slow pace of the song said anything. Louis felt the urge to tell Harry, “My parents currently think I’m dating a girl named Cassie…or Casey, or Kelsey, or something. Shit: I forget.” Louis sardonically laughed at himself.  
“Why’d you tell them that?”  
“They’re always riding my ass about when I’m gonna get married, so every so often I’ll make up a new girlfriend that I mysteriously break up with as soon as they ask to meet her.”  
“They haven’t caught on yet?”  
“People don’t see what they refuse to look at.” Harry empathically smiled at Louis, looked down at his lap, and nodded. He fiddled with his fingers, and after a few seconds, he looked back up at Louis and told him,  
“People who don’t wanna see don’t deserve to know.” Louis leaned back and rested his head on the top of the couch once again.  
“I guess not.” The music slowly began to fade out with a violin. “What’s this song?”  
“Oblivion.”  
“Bastille?”  
“Yep.”  
“I like it.”  
“Me too.” And then another song began with the crashing of waves and a steady strumming rhythm of a guitar coming in. “Sorry, I think I put my song library on shuffle.” It was a song that he recognized like the back of his hand. A song that he listened to every morning and afternoon for months and months and months. A song he hadn’t heard in sixteen years. A song he refused to listen to for sixteen years by a band he refused to listen to for sixteen years: Champagne Supernova by Oasis.  
“Wow.”  
“What?”  
“I just…I haven’t heard this song since…I haven’t listened to Oasis or Radiohead for years.”  
“Oh…why?”  
“I just…I dunno.” Louis could only listen to the lyrics, almost frozen in his seat. ‘Someday you will find me caught beneath the landslide in a Champagne Supernova’ – It was right then that Louis realized it. The fact hit him like a wrecking ball. The reason Louis was crushed under a landslide for years, unable to move forward or backwards, was because of the man currently sitting on his couch. Harry was utopia. He abruptly turned his head to see Harry looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows and concerned eyes. God, was he allowed to swim in Harry’s eyes? Was that a thing that people did? Louis would even be okay with drowning in his eyes if it meant that Harry would constantly engulf him. He would be fine with getting lost in the confines of Harry.  
Fuck. He was in deep. He was in so fucking deep.  
“You okay?” Louis shook his head to try and shake himself out of it.  
“Yeah…yeah.”  
“Okay…”  
“Tell me a story.”  
“What?”  
“Tell me a story.”  
“Why?”  
“I dunno; I wanna hear you tell a story.”  
“About what?” Louis sighed and leaned his head on the top of the couch again.  
“Anything. Something important to you.”  
“Oh…ummm…okay. Wanna hear about Gemma?”  
“Yeah, definitely.”  
“Okay. So she was a really cute little kid. I didn’t realize how much I would actually get to play big brother, but it turned out that I spent all of my time off from school with her, Mom, and Robin. Like…I was apart of their normal family, even if I wasn’t always there. I got to watch her grow up and take care of her like a big brother should. I know you got to do that with Lottie, but I never realized what it was actually like until Gemma came along. Sometimes I felt like she was my daughter or something because of the age difference. Not that I could ever impregnate a girl since I’ve never had sex with one, but still. I just, like, felt this need to always be with her and protect her. She was always up for a cuddle. The summer when she was three, I took her to the park with Mom and I was playing with her. She liked the slide the best, and she would run up to the top, but she would usually trip. She had tough skin, which was completely unlike me when I was little, so I guess I know where that gene came from. She never cried when she fell, though; usually, she just laughed and I helped her up. Ummm…oh right. So she would run up to the top of the play castle and would make me wait at the bottom of the slide to catch her when she came down. But after a while she wouldn’t wanna do that anymore, so I sat on the swings with her on my lap. One time she fell asleep like that. Actually, she started sleeping in my bed with me every summer until she was eight. Granted, Niall and I shared an apartment, but every summer until we finished grad school, I would go there and Niall would go visit his family in California, so it’s not like we were abandoning each other. She also liked birds; she used to call them ‘words’ for, like, a year – ” Louis tried to pay attention to the story, but he ended up closing his eyes and drifting off into Harry’s voice. It could possibly be one of the most soothing noises on the planet. It was easily the most beautiful voice Louis had ever heard. It was warm, inviting, tender, soft with an edge, and each word was full of meaning. Harry was so sure and passionate about everything he said: he had always been that way. His voice was undoubtedly deeper now; it definitely had more of a scratch to it, but that fact just made it more comforting. “ – and so we had to…ummm…Lou?”  
“Mmm?”  
“Are you okay?”  
“Mhmm. Just listening.”  
“It looks like you’re falling asleep.”  
“Listening to you.”  
“Oh…umm, okay.”  
“You had to…what?”  
“What?”  
“Your story.”  
“Oh. Yeah…ummm…I…I – ” Harry chuckled to himself, “I forget what the ending was.”  
“Then tell another.”  
“Okay…ummm…” Harry paused for a few moments, “I can’t think of anything to tell.” Louis opened his eyelids and turned his head up to look at Harry. He was looking down at Louis with wide eyes in an extremely focused manner like he was contemplating the meaning of life.  
“You have sixteen years worth of stories to tell.”  
“I…right – yeah. Sorry.”  
“Are you okay?”  
“Yeah.”  
“You sure?”  
“Yeah.” Harry abruptly threw his head down and looked away from Louis. That was weird. He pulled out his phone. “I…I think I have to go.”  
“You do?”  
“I…yeah, I need to go.”  
“What time is it?”  
“Nine o’clock.” Shit. Had Harry seriously been talking for that long?  
“Oh, okay.”  
“Yeah. Thank you for dinner.”  
“Any time.” They both stood up, and Louis walked with Harry to the door.  
“You’ll come over to my place next Sunday?”  
“Yeah, sounds good.”  
“And we’re meeting at 30th street station Wednesday at…”  
“Eight thirty. The train comes at Eight forty-seven.”  
“Okay. That offer still stands if you wanna come out to dinner with Niall and I that night. It’s karaoke night at the bar we go to. Amy’s coming.”  
“I’ll think about it, okay?”  
“Okay. Thanks again for dinner.”  
“Thanks for inviting yourself.” Harry laughed and then pulled Louis into a hug. He was probably a good three inches taller than Louis, but somehow it seemed like their chests lined up perfectly. Harry’s arms fit perfectly around Louis’ body to lock him into the embrace; Louis’ arms stayed firmly latched around Harry’s waist, and everything felt exactly as it’s meant to be. Louis’ head fit into the crevasse between Harry’s neck and shoulder blade, and Harry’s head was fit into the crevasse between Louis’ neck and shoulder blade. They fit, just like they always had, and Harry brought his mouth up to Louis’ ear and whispered,  
“See you Wednesday?” And fuck if that wasn’t one of the most unintentionally seductive things Louis had ever heard in his life.  
“Yeah, see you then.”

 

To Liam and Zayn: I don’t know what I’m doing with my life anymore

From Liam: Harry problem?

To Liam and Zayn: When isn’t it? I’m convinced that my life has become subjected to sexual frustration for as long as I live.

From Zayn: u can always get a prostitute

From Liam: Don’t get a prostitute. 

From Zayn: u always have ur hand

To Liam and Zayn: This is not where I wanted this conversation to go 

From Zayn: Wht did u wanna say?

To Liam and Zayn: Harry came over for dinner yesterday and we talked about stuff and I’d appreciate a guys night at some point.

From Zayn: guys nite or girls nite…bc a guys nite isn’t complaining about your boy problems

To Liam and Zayn: Fine. A night for the three of us. Make your dates on Saturday night so we can get drinks on Friday night. I’ll pay. 

From Liam: I will never say no to a free drink

From Zayn: Same

 

It was Tuesday night. Louis was still at the firm, quietly working on the blueprint for one of the townhouse projects; the contractor needed it in two days, so Louis was checking it over and fixing any mistakes.  
Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
Someone was calling him, which was kind of strange since it was only six thirty when Louis checked the clock about five minutes ago, but he jogged out of the main room and into his office to see the glowing phone screen on his desk. He immediately spotted the ‘H’ in the caller ID, and the picture of him eating a piece of chicken confirmed that it was Harry calling him.  
Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
Louis brightened up at that, thinking about the fact that Harry was calling him half an hour earlier. He quickly answered the call.  
“Hello?”  
“Hi.” Harry’s voice sounded raspy and cracked as he whispered out the words. Louis’ stomach dropped: he knew that something was wrong.  
“What’s wrong?” Harry sniffled a few times, and then hiccupped a sigh.  
“Rough day.” Louis felt his heart being pulled by strings at the explanation; something serious happened.  
“What happened?”  
“I…umm – ” Harry hiccupped a sob, “I lost…a patient. A k–kid. Today.” He broke out into quiet sobs.  
“Hazza…I’m…Hazza…” This was horrible. Hearing Harry cry made Louis want to shield him from the World. Louis remembered during brunch that Harry said he sometimes had a rough time handling his job, but it wasn’t until now that Louis realized what that really meant. “I’m so sorry.”  
“Yeah…”  
“What happened?”  
“My kid…well n–not my kid, but the kid I’ve been taking c–care of since he was b–born…he had Pul–pulmonary Artesia…he’d h–had four surgeries since he was born…and today he…it just…his heart…” Harry began to let out his sobs again. Louis felt devastated that he wasn’t there with Harry right now to just hold him. Harry really needed someone to be with right now, and Louis felt helpless since he wasn’t there with him. Louis couldn’t give any input, either, since he had absolutely no idea what Pulmonary Artesia was, which made him feel even more helpless. All he wanted to do was help Harry. He wanted to wipe the tears that streamed down his face. He wanted to hold his quivering body until he shook no more. He wanted to be Harry’s rock.  
Most importantly, though, he just wanted Harry to be happy.  
“How old was he?”  
“T–th–three.”  
“Haz…Haz I’m so sorry.” Harry’s sobs died down into quiet, spaced out whimpers.  
“Fuck, sorry. I just…ne–needed someone. I still h–haven’t figured out h–how to deal with this.”  
“Harry, you are one of the most caring people on this planet. You probably gave that little boy five thousand percent more than what you physically could. He definitely knew that you cared. And his parents know that you cared, and that you fought for him, and that you still do care.”  
“Y–yeah…I do.”  
“Maybe…maybe this was one little boy who was just no longer able to be saved, but think of all the other lives you’ve touched. Think of all the other kids you’ve selflessly given everything you can to. Think of all the other kids, waiting to meet you one day in the future…waiting to be saved by you. You put hope back into the lives of these kids and their families. You’re the face of hope. You’re like…you’re like an angel, Harry. You’re a Godsend, and I hope you realize this.” Harry’s side of the phone line was filled with sniffles, until finally he said,  
“I wish you’d been with me. In the p–past, when I first went through this. I used to ima–magine what you’d s–say to me.” This broke Louis’ heart. The thought of Harry being this broken down in the past and thinking about what Louis would’ve said to him to try and make himself feel better. Harry thought about Louis when he was going through this in the past. Louis could picture the eighteen year old Harry sitting on his bed, curled up into a ball, and having his dam of tears overflow to an extent that it had never overflowed before: this was death. This was complete, and total loss. This was Harry crying about the fact that he couldn’t help chase death away if only for one more day. It broke Louis’ heart into two halves thinking about this, and one of the halves belonged to Harry.  
“Well, I’m here now. And I’m not leaving.”  
“I know.” Harry sniffled again. It seemed like his crying had passed, so that was definitely a good progression. Louis began to think about Harry imagining what Louis would say to him in this situation for years and years and years.  
“I hope I lived up to what you imagined.” Harry breathed in a broken gasp of air.  
“You’re better than anything I could’ve ever dreamed up…you’re real.” Louis smiled to himself at that.  
“So are you.” Harry let out a quiet, somber, wet chuckle,  
“Well spoken.”  
“I get it from the best.”  
“Yeah, well…yeah.”  
“Yeah…” They stayed silent for a few more moments, until Harry quietly whispered into the phone,  
“I missed you.”  
“I missed you too.”  
“Promise we won’t leave each other again?”  
“I promise with every single fiber in my being that I will never leave again.”  
“Me too.”

 

Harry didn’t look good.  
At all.  
Even from a distance, Louis noticed the huge, black, body bags that were slumped underneath his eyes, the pale complexion of his body that was undoubtedly caused by a sleepless night, and a clear lack of vitality in his steps. Niall’s face was contorted between concern for Harry, which was evident from the way he patted Harry on the back, and excitement for seeing Louis, which was evident from the grin on his face when Louis waved to them. As they walked closer, Louis could see just how exhausted Harry was; he held himself like a pliable piece of rubber. His eyes were set on the floor, and it looked like he was dragging his feet. He had two coffee cups, one in either hand, and Louis didn’t blame him for needing two cups this morning. Louis got up from the bench and walked to them.  
“Morning, Louis!” Niall greeted in a cheery voice. He held out his hand and Louis shook it,  
“Hey, how’ve you been?”  
“Been doing alright. You?”  
“I’ve been okay.” Louis shifted his gaze to Harry, who was sheepishly looking at the ground and scuffing his feet. God, he looked adorable. “Hi Haz.” Harry lifted his head up and obviously forced himself to try and smile,  
“Hey.” He held out the coffee cup in his left hand. “I got you a coffee.” Oh. That coffee was for him; Harry bought a coffee specifically for Louis. He already had his cup of coffee this morning, but there was no way he wasn’t going to take it. Harry bit his bottom lip.  
“Wow, umm, thank you. You didn’t have to get me this.” Harry just shrugged and handed it over to Louis.  
“Okay, the train’s coming in twelve minutes and I really have to take a shit.” Niall said. Louis couldn’t help but chuckle at his bluntness; he seemed like the guy who couldn’t give two shits, no pun intended, about what people thought so long as he was happy with his life. Niall held out his coffee cup to Harry, “Can you hold this? I’ll be back in a minute, I swear.” Harry didn’t even respond; he took the cup out of Niall’s hand like he was used to this. “Thanks; I’ll be right back.” Niall ran off towards the restrooms. Harry still looked down at the ground.  
“You wanna sit?” Harry looked up, scrunched his lips together, and nodded. Louis walked them both over to the bench where he was previously sat at. As if he was looking for some type of warmth, Harry used his fingers to stroke the coffee cups. Just looking at him made Louis’ chest feel like it was slowly being crushed. “How’re you doing?” Harry shrugged and slumped his shoulders forward until his elbows rested on his knees. His back was curved in the air, and his head fell downwards to the floor; his hair would’ve flopped down too, but the grey beanie Harry wore held it back. Louis used this opportunity to put his left hand on Harry’s back and rub it up and down his spine. He traced his fingers over Harry’s coat and Harry sighed in response. “We’re gonna have a good day.”  
“Mmm.” Harry hummed in response. It didn’t sound like Harry believed him.  
“Would I lie to you?”  
“No.”  
“Right. So can you look at me?” Harry tilted his head to the right and looked up at Louis. “Everything is gonna fall into place and line itself up. Maybe we don’t realize why life is going in the direction it is at the time, or why things are happening, but everything will eventually fall into place. I promise.” This time, Harry actually smiled. Sure, it was small, and would probably be indiscernible from anywhere more than a foot away, but it was a smile. Louis put his entire left arm around Harry’s body, pulled him in, and shook his body a bit. This actually made Harry breathily chuckle. “Besides, you get to spend the day with me. How could it not be a good day?” Harry sat up and Louis pulled him into his body so he was side-hugging him. Harry gave himself over to the embrace and leaned on the entire left side of Louis’ body. It was extraordinarily comforting how pliable Harry was; it felt like Harry had been waiting to be pulled into his body. Louis looked down at the coffee cups in Harry’s hands, and noticed the one that had written on it: “Kyle?” Harry chuckled, and Louis could feel his body vibrate with the laughter.  
“Yeah; the barista thought Niall’s name was Kyle.”  
“Oh my God, that’s amazing! Can I call him Kyle now?”  
“You definitely should.”  
“I definitely will.” Louis found himself unconsciously rubbing his hand up and down Harry’s left arm. They sat there like that for a minute or so, not talking, just touching. They didn’t need to talk. There was nothing that needed to be said right now; the only thing that needed happen was for Louis to comfort Harry…to reassure him that he was here. To reassure him that he wasn’t going to leave again.  
Louis felt a hand reach from behind him and pat him on his right shoulder. He turned around to see Niall walking around the bench and sitting down to the right of Louis; he didn’t bother to remove his hand from around Harry, because it didn’t seem like Niall cared, and Harry didn’t shift away. In fact, Harry moved his head to fully rest on Louis’ left shoulder.  
“How was your shit, Kyle?” Louis asked. Niall laughed,  
“Kyle?”  
“That’s what your coffee says.”  
“Oh yeah, that damn barista didn’t understand me so she thought I said Kyle. Do I look like a Kyle?”  
“Yes.” Harry answered. Niall shook his head.  
“Can I have my fucking coffee?” Harry reached over Louis’ lap and handed Niall his coffee.  
“Don’t get so upset, Kyle.”  
“How would you feel if no one comprehended your name when you said it?”  
“Well, everyone knows the name Harry…so I dunno.”  
“Maybe we should call you Barry.” Louis squeezed his hand around Harry’s bicep. Harry chuckled and Niall full out cracked up.  
“Barry! Yes! Harry, you’re Barry.”  
“Barry’s such a bad name – ”  
“Wait, now you need one, Louis…what rhymes with Louis…Chewie! No…Kong Fuie!”  
“Chop Suey.” Harry declared, “Definitely Chop Suey.” 

 

When they got to the site, the contractor, named Paul, took the three around from room to room. He explained how they would rip down this wall and put up another, or change the shape of that wall, how they would insulate this wall and rewire through that one, each window would be replaced, and that it would take approximately a month a half to finish. Sometimes, Harry would glance at Louis, and Louis would be sure to make a weird face at him by either crossing his eyes, sticking his tongue out at him, or sucking in his cheeks and making a fish face. All of the faces made Harry cackle, and he had to cover his mouth with his hand each time.  
During this time, Louis learned that Niall had a habit for whistling while walking, he liked dirty jokes, which Louis was sure to tell many of, and, at times, he had the mouth of a fucking sailor. Sometimes, he was incapable of saying a sentence without at least one curse word in it, and ‘cunt’ was definitely in his vocabulary when he talked about something that pissed him off. This was particularly evident when a biker almost ran into them while they were walking to the building, and he said: “I fucking hate bikers. I hate them when I’m walking because they think everyone will just back the fuck out of the way, I hate them when I’m driving because the fucking bastards take up half of the goddamn road, and I hate them when I’m biking because they have no regard for other fucking bikers. They’re cunts, man, I’m telling you.” Louis asked him if he realized he just called himself a cunt, to which he responded with, “Chewie, I know I’m a cunt.” It was safe to say that Louis truly appreciated Niall as a human being and wanted to be one of his friends.  
They got back to Center City at noon, and the combination of Niall’s consistent “Come out with us tonight! Come on! Just come! It’ll be a shit ton of fun!” along with Harry’s still downcast eyes paired with a sorrowful smile convinced Louis to go out with them tonight. So what if Michael came? Louis could easily show him up in karaoke, or he could just hang out with Niall and Amy if he thought he would punch Michael at any point. Besides, Harry wanted him to come, and that was more than enough to make Louis say yes.

 

So that’s how he walked into a dimly lit bar at eight thirty that night.  
It was muggy, dark, and the fluorescent lights of the different beer company logos were just about the only source of light. That was when he saw a spotlight on a small stage, beaming down on the person currently singing. He wasn’t surprised at all by the fact that the song being sung right now was Sweet Caroline. What he was surprised by was that it was Harry up on the small stage, swaying back and forth, while belting out slurred lyrics of the song into the microphone. His body was radiating a glow of drunkenness and an aura of boozy warmth. The sea of drunken lunatics that made up 99% of the people in the building were singing along with him, though, and he looked happy…even if it was a drunken happiness, and even if his dimples weren’t showing.  
“SWEEEEET CAROLINEEEE!”  
“OH OH OH!”  
“GOOD TIMESSS NEVAA SEEMED SOOO GOODDDDD!”  
“SO GOOD SO GOOD SO GOOD!”  
Louis walked into the place laughing his ass off, because this was definitely a sight that he never expected to see in his life. Harry was completely wasted; Louis had no clue how long he’d been here for or how much he’d had to drink. It must’ve been a while ago, and it must’ve been a lot, because Harry’s conscious wasn’t present in this building right now. That concerned Louis a bit, especially considering the fact that this may be how he was handling the loss of a patient, but he decided to let it go for right now and examine later when he could actually talk to Harry…if Harry was even capable of holing a conversation.  
For the time being, Louis spotted the booth Niall and Amy were sat at; both were currently singing along with Harry, and Niall would occasionally scream: “WHOOO YEAH HARRY!”, laugh, take a gulp of his beer, and then clap along with the music again. Louis made his way over to the table and counted five empty beer glasses and one half full on the side of the table opposite from Niall and Amy.  
“Chewieee!” Niall yelled. Amy leaned forward as she laughed; both of their faces were red, and it was obvious that they were comfortably buzzed. Louis smiled at the happy couple.  
“Kyle! Amy!”  
“Sit down! Take a seat!” Niall slammed his hand on the other side of the table, and Louis slid into the wooden booth and took a seat next to the wall, assuming Harry would be joining them when he finished his song. “You can have some of Harry’s beer; I’m sure he won’t mind.”  
“Nah, it’s okay.”  
“Come on; just a sip.”  
“It’s fine. I don’t think I’m gonna drink tonight.”  
“Said no sane man ever. Have a fuckin’ drink, Chewie!”  
“His name’s Louis, not Chewie, hun.”  
“I get to call him Chewie because I made up the name for him, didn’t I?”  
“Yes you did.”  
“Awh, does this mean you two are best friends now?”  
“I think it does. He agrees with my view on bikers.”  
“That they’re all cunts?”  
“Yep.”  
“Anyway, how’ve you been Louis?” Amy asked before taking a sip of beer at the same time as Niall. Louis swore he was looking at two mirrors of each other; they didn’t even notice how in sync all of their motions were. Their words matched up, their personalities matched up, their looks matched up, their actions matched up, everything about those two matched up.  
“Good, and yourself?”  
“I’ve been good. I heard about your day; Niall says everything is coming together really well.”  
“Yeah, it is.”  
“SWEEEET CARRRROOOOOLINEEEEEE!” The entire bar sang together before erupting in applause. Niall tried to put his fingers in his mouth and whistle, but he ended up laughing instead when no whistle was formed. Louis applauded with the rest of the crowd until it died down. Harry jumped off of the stage and sloppily carried his body towards the booth. When he saw Louis, his mouth opened up into an open grin, he balled his hands in fists, and shook them around like he was playing the maracas.  
“Chop Sueeeeey! You’re here!” He yelled from a few feet away. Harry slid into the booth next to Louis, clapping his hands while chanting: “Chop-su-ey! Chop-su-ey! Chop-su-ey!” Wow. He was really fucking drunk. His entire face was flushed, his pupils were dilated beyond belief, and his hair was sticking around in all directions. Louis wondered for a split moment if this was how he looked right after he’d been fucked.  
“I told you I would come.”  
“Didju eat? Cuz I know–I know that you don’t get reelmeels.” Harry asked before reaching for his beer and taking a sip.  
“Yeah, I did. Did you?”  
“Mhmm.”  
“We’re gonna go get another round. You guys want in?” Niall asked.  
“Hellz yeahhh.” Harry answered in a high-pitched voice.  
“I’m fine.”  
“Chop Sueyyyy, you needa drink somethin’.”  
“Nope. I’m okay, Hazza.” Louis turned to Niall, “I don’t want anything.”  
“Your body, bro.” Niall responded before taking Amy’s hand in his, and the two of them slid out of the booth and to the bar.  
“So. Suey.”  
“How much have you had to drink?”  
“Ummm…I had one,” Harry pulled up his hand and counted with his fingers, “two, three...three beers. I had three beers. This is my fourth. Kyle is gettin’ my fifth. And I had two shots.” Shit. Okay: this was undoubtedly how Harry was dealing with the death of his patient. This wasn’t good.  
“Harry, that’s a lot of alcohol; you do realize this, right?”  
“Psh. Alcohol smhmalcohal.” Harry vibrated his lips together and then broke out into a belly laugh, “Lou, Louis, Lou…try doing that. It feels funny.” Harry vibrated his lips together again, and Louis would’ve gotten up and ran to Niall to tell him not to buy another beer for Harry if Harry weren’t blocking him from getting out.  
“Harry…you shouldn’t be doing this.” Really, that was a bit hypocritical of Louis to say considering the fact that he had done the same thing countless times in the past. But he didn’t want Harry to make the same mistakes he did.  
“Doing what?”   
“Getting drunk to try and aid the grieving process.” Harry’s brows furrowed as if he was genuinely confused.  
“What grieving process?” Well shit. That wasn’t what Louis wanted to hear.  
“Harry…” He honestly didn’t know how to answer it. Maybe Harry had forgotten about his patient for the time being because he was so wasted, maybe he didn’t, but it was still a huge open wound, and it wouldn’t be fair for Louis to bring attention to the pain.  
“I’m fine. Everythin…everythin in my life is fine – ”  
“MORE BEER!” Niall yelled as he slammed down two glasses on the table. The drink overflowed the glass’s dam to create a pond on the hardwood table. Louis was the one to get a napkin and wipe it up.  
“Harry, Niall doesn’t wanna sing Summer Nights with me. Will you sing with me?” Amy asked.  
“Only if I getta sing Sanny’s part.” Amy laughed and held her hand out to Harry.  
“Come on, you big sap.” He took her hand, and the two were off. Everything felt like it was moving too fast, and Louis couldn’t keep up. He felt like he was in some sort of parallel universe where everything moved twice as fast. Louis wanted to slow it down.  
“Now that they’re gone, I need to ask.” Niall slid into the booth, leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table: why did Niall just become so serious? “You know that beanie Harry always wears?”  
“Yeah…”  
“It’s sitting next to you; pick it up.” What the hell was Niall getting at? Niall was either getting fairly wasted, or he actually had a point to make about Harry’s beanie…which would just be weird. It’s only a hat. Louis reached down and picked up the faded grey beanie. He held it up to Niall. “Look at the tag inside.” Louis gently turned the fabric inside out and looked at the tag.  
“The washing instructions?”  
“Look at the other side of it.” Louis did as he was told.  
And then he saw it.  
Written in black letters was the word ‘Louis’. It was in his own handwriting.  
Holy shit.  
Louis’ stomach became a sinkhole. His heart lifted its way into his throat and violently pounded against his esophagus. His legs went numb. His mind went fuzzy.  
“I don’t know if it has any relevance to you, but Harry’s been wearing it ever since I’ve known him. I have no clue how the fuck that thing hasn’t been worn down into pieces yet, but it’s still here. I noticed it back in college, and he said he stole it from a guy named Louis so I didn’t ask any questions; honestly, I didn’t care. But then I noticed again last week and I thought…well, is it yours or not? I guess I should ask was it yours or not, though, since that thing is a vital component to Harry’s wardrobe and I doubt that you’ll be getting it back any time soon.” Holy shit. All these years, Harry kept the beanie. All these years, Harry wore the beanie. All these years, Harry kept Louis with him.  
“I…yeah.” Louis rubbed his fingers on the familiar fabric. “I…I gave it to him. For his eighteenth birthday.” Niall nodded and leaned back.  
“Okay. That makes sense.” Louis was still in shock; how had he not noticed that it was his beanie before? Harry had worn it practically every time Louis saw him over the past month, and Louis didn’t notice it. How did Louis not recognize it? Now that he was holding it in his hands, it was obvious that it was his beanie. Louis remembered physically handing it over to Harry. Back then it was fairly new; it was sharp, vibrant, and pristine. Now, it was beat, worn down, and blemished. It showed clear signs of aging…but it was still here…and completely intact.  
“He’s been wearing it all this time?”  
“Yep. Ever since I’ve known him. He’d get really anal whenever somebody else touched it, but that kind of makes sense now.”  
“Wow…wow.” Louis smiled in disbelief: this was insane. Harry had been wearing Louis’ hat for sixteen years. In the background, he could hear Amy and Harry singing Summer Nights; Harry was singing Sandy’s part in a falsetto voice, and Amy was singing Danny’s part in a mock-tenor voice. He felt his smile enlarge. “Can I, umm, ask you a question?”  
“I don’t see why not.”  
“Has he…like, umm, told you? Anything? About me? And, like…our relationship?” Niall brought his beer up to his mouth and nodded as he took a sip.  
“Yep.”  
“What’d he say?”  
“He told me about you for the first time a month ago after I talked to him about my meeting with you guys. I asked him if he knew a Louis Tomlinson…and then he told me.”  
“How…ummm, how much?”  
“Enough.” Louis’ stomach dropped into a sinkhole within the sinkhole it was already in.  
“Enough? Like…even the…” Niall closed-mouthed smiled and once again nodded his head. Okay. So Niall knew everything about his and Harry’s relationship. And he didn’t seem to be disapproving of it at all.  
“Listen, Chewie,” Niall leaned in to the table again, “between you and me, it’s really not that hard to notice. I’ve seen him look at you in a way I’ve never seen him look at Michael…or, now that I’m thinking about it, anyone. Harry’s had a few serious relationships, but he’s ended each one saying that ‘it didn’t feel right’ and ‘they’re not the right person for me’. Those are his words, not mine, I swear.” Holy shit. This was happening: this was actually happening. Niall just confirmed that Harry looked at Louis like…well, like something more than how he looked at everybody else. Louis wasn’t making that up in his mind whenever he and Harry looked at each other. Niall just told him that Harry didn’t stay with someone because of the simple fact that it didn’t feel right. Just like Louis had done. Did this mean…  
“What…umm, what do you think of his relationship with Michael?” Alright, so maybe this counted as invasion of privacy. Maybe this counted as crossing a boundary, but he needed to know.  
“Mike’s a cool guy, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes he can be a total douche bag. He was good at first, but I think that’s because he wanted to impress Harry. Overtime he’s kind of become a total dick. Like, he refuses to come out with us every Wednesday night; I think it’s because he doesn’t like me, but he should still come out because it’s Harry, right? At least, that’s what I think. On Harry’s part…it’s just again with the ‘it doesn’t feel right’ shit. I mean, he’s never said it, but he’s implied it. For God’s sake, they’ve been dating for two years and they haven’t moved in together. Again, between you and me, I think he’s just stayed with him for this long because he didn’t want to be alone anymore. In my opinion, it’s a situation of settling for what you can have rather than keep searching for what you want. I don’t know, man.” Well. This was a ton of new-found information that Louis would have to process at some point. For now, though, the only thing going through his mind was ‘Harry may still have feelings for me, Harry may still have feelings for me, Harry may still have feelings for me’ on a constant repeat like a broken record. “You sure you don’t want a beer?”  
“Yeah, no, I’m fine…thank you, though. Seriously…thank you.” Niall shrugged.  
“I’m just doing what a best friend should do. Listen: can you give me your phone number? We should definitely hang out more.”  
“Yeah, sure.” Niall pulled out his I-Phone and handed it to Louis, Louis put in his number, and handed it back to Niall.  
“Solid. I’ll text you right now so you have my number.”  
“Sounds good.” It was at that moment when Harry and Amy slumped back into the booth, both laughing off of the adrenaline of performing. Even if it was only a karaoke night in a bar. Niall leaned over to Amy, put his arm around her, and gave her a short kiss on the lips,  
“Great job, sweetheart.”  
“Thanks, hun.” Louis smiled at those two and instinctively turned over to Harry, who was in the process of chugging the last of his fourth beer. The cloud he had been floating on during his conversation with Niall had vaporized and he was brought back to the concern of Harry drinking his problems away. Louis had been down that path: it didn’t work. Harry slammed down his empty glass on the table.  
“Alcohol is great. Didju know that? Isgreat.”  
“Har–”  
“Why’re you holdin my hat?” Harry looked genuinely concerned. Louis shook his head, because fuck was his boy drunk. He brought up his hand to Harry’s hair and pushed it back; Harry just stayed there, letting Louis fix his hair. He could feel the remnants of hair gel in there, and it wasn’t nearly as soft as he remembered. It hardened overtime, yet it still had a fair amount of soft curls to it, and the familiarity of that made Louis smile to himself. He slowly brought the beanie up and placed it on Harry’s head.  
“I think we should get you home.”  
“What? Why?”  
“You’re wasted.”  
“M’not wasteded.”  
“Yes you are.” Niall interjected. Louis threw him a swift, thankful smile, and Niall quickly winked at him. “Let Louis take you home. I’ll pay for everything tonight.”  
“I live two blocks’way, and I still gottaanother drink.” Amy reached across the table, took the drink Harry had yet to set his lips on, and took a sip out of it.  
“Now you don’t.” She declared.  
“You guys’re mean.” Harry said with a pout. Niall and Amy laughed, while Louis patted Harry’s back and handed him his coat. Harry reluctantly put on his coat, pout very much still prevalent on his face. Louis felt like he was dealing with a six year old: an adorable, cute, endearing six year old...who just so happened to be thirty-four.  
“C’mon, Barry. Let’s go.”

 

Harry may have only lived two blocks away, but with him stumbling into either Louis or the street every two and a half seconds, he might as well have lived twenty blocks away. By the third time Harry almost stumbled into the street, Louis resolved for putting his hand around Harry’s waist and pulling him into his body to try and minimize the chance of him getting run over by a car.  
“Your handson my waist.” Harry commented.  
“Yep.”  
“Why?” With the way Harry hunched himself over, it almost felt like he was the same height as Louis. In all actuality, Harry was a good three or four inches taller than him, but the height difference usually only meant that Louis would have to look up at him. Now, when he looked to his left, Harry’s face was right there, bloodshot eyes gazing holes into Louis’ mind. Louis looked forward again.  
“Because you’re drunk.”  
“As a skunk.” Harry proceeded to laugh at his own joke, and their pace slowed down to that of a snail. Louis realized Harry had a drunken laugh, where he would use his stomach to laugh, but it would come out dry and as a giggle, while his head would swing from side to side. Harry put his arm around Louis’ shoulder and used it as a crutch to stay standing. “Woah, Lou. Do this.” Louis looked over at Harry, who had his eyes closed and was rolling his entire head in circles. “Feels like m’ina milkshake or somethin’…maybe m’the straw inhe milkshake.”  
“Shit, you’re drunk.” Harry drunkenly laughed again. It did make Louis giggle at how out of it Harry was. Sure, Louis didn’t really approve of why Harry was like this in the first place, but that didn’t mean he didn’t find drunk Harry funny. In fact, drunk Harry was borderline hilarious. Anything was amusing to him. When Harry stopped breathily laughing, he shrugged and said,  
“S’okay.” Louis sighed; he probably shouldn’t have this conversation with Harry while Harry was wasted, but he felt the need to tell him anyway,  
“No, it’s not.”  
“You donwanme to drink?”  
“Not like this, no.”  
“Like what?”  
“Harry.” Louis glanced at Harry and noticed he was licking his lips, his delicious, wet, plump, red lips. He had to force himself to look away. “You might not be able to admit it to yourself, but you’re grief drinking. Drowning your sorrows…you know, that sort of thing.” Harry was silent for a few moments.  
“So?”  
“So…I’ve been down that path. And it doesn’t work. And I’d rather not see you go down it.”  
“You did this?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Why?”  
“Because…because I didn’t like the person I was.”  
“What? Why? When? Why? You’re one of the best people ever.” Louis chuckled to himself; Harry really did sound like a child right now. God, he really shouldn’t be admitting this to a drunken Harry, but he felt the intense need to.  
“When I was in college and up to my mid-twenties, I almost became an alcoholic. If it wasn’t for Liam and Zayn, I think I might’ve become one.”  
“But…why?”  
“Well…I guess…I just had a lot of regrets of how I lived my life and what type of person I was. I felt like I couldn’t get anything right, so I used the alcohol to try and forget…but I never forgot. And that just made me unhappy. Which caused me to drink more. I dunno, it was a downward cycle. I’m not gonna let you go down it.” Harry hiccupped.  
“R’you talkin’ bout me?” Louis wasn’t sure if Harry had listened to anything he just told him. Yep: he shouldn’t be having this conversation with drunk Harry.  
“Yeah…”  
“No, I mean me; didju try and forgettabout me?” Oh. Louis was definitely not expecting that.  
“Ummm…I mean – ”  
“Cause I neva forgottabout you.” Harry was far too drunk to have this conversation right now. Louis squeezed his waist.  
“Just promise that you won’t drink to try and get over your problems anymore, okay?”  
“Kay. I promise. I don’t wanna make you upset.”  
“You’re not upsetting me.”  
“It feels like I am.”  
“Well, you’re not.”  
“No, I mean even when’m’not drunk. When I see you, sometimes you jus look upset. I dunno what m’doin to make you upset, though. I only wanna make you happy.” This made Louis pause for a moment: did he look upset when he was with Harry? Sure, he was inwardly upset about a variety of things about the current state of their relationship, mostly how he regretted what he did in the past, but he was making amends now. Yes, he felt upset that he couldn’t hold Harry whenever he wanted, that he couldn’t kiss Harry whenever he wanted, that he couldn’t flat out tell Harry everything he wanted to. Did he look upset though? Did it show through his face how upset he was that he had to contain himself and hold himself back?  
“You do. I promise: you make me happy.” Harry laid his head on Louis’ right shoulder and sighed.  
“You make me happy too.” The remainder of the last block was spent in silence. Honestly, Louis spent the time trying to keep Harry up because he would tilt from side to side with every step. Maybe if Harry wasn’t as ‘drunk as a skunk’ then Louis would’ve taken their discussion elsewhere, especially after knowing what Niall had told him, but that wasn’t going to happen. At least, not tonight. So Louis let the thought go.  
When they got to his apartment building’s front door, Louis let go of his grip around Harry’s waist; Harry looked at him in concern, like he didn’t understand why Louis just let go, but he lifted his head up off of Louis’ shoulder and backed up a step.  
“You got it from here, yeah?” Harry scrunched his lips together and shrugged. “Do you have your key?”  
“Mhmm.”  
“Then so long as you don’t hit the wrong floor in the elevator, you got it from here.”  
“You’re leaving?”  
“Well yeah…I have to get home too.”  
“Oh.”  
“Yeah…but remember I’m coming back this Sunday; you’re cooking dinner.”  
“Okay.”  
“Okay.” Louis probably should’ve left then, but the two of them stayed exactly where they were, as though they were frozen in place. The night wasn’t as dark as Louis remembered it being when they first walked out of the bar, and the air wasn’t as cold. The only thing Louis saw was Harry. The only thing Louis could focus on was Harry. Harry squinted his eyes and tilted his head to the left.  
“Your eyes’re really blue.” And if it weren’t for his slurred words, Louis might’ve accepted the comment. If it weren’t for his slurred words, Louis might’ve believed him. But Harry was drunk; he wasn’t currently in the right state of mind. No matter what he said, he was drunk. These were drunk words that he may or may not say when he’s sober…so Louis couldn’t trust them.  
But God, did he want to.  
Louis shook his head and huffed out a breath. “Okay. Get inside now, Haz. You need to go to sleep.” Harry solemnly nodded.  
“Yeah…yeah. G’night, Lou.”  
“Night.” Louis waved, turned around, and forced himself to walk away.  
But maybe he looked back.  
And maybe Harry was still looking at him.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody!!!  
> Okay, so a few things:
> 
> 1: You've all been amazingly patient with waiting, and that seriously shows me how dedicated you all are. Really, I think you all are the greatest readers ever.
> 
> 2: Unfortunately, the wait for the next update will probably be two weeks once again. I severely underestimated how much time school would take up.
> 
> 3: There are four chapters left!!!! I'm really excited for you all to find out what happens :D
> 
> 4: I've made an 8tracks for this story, including all the songs that were mentioned, but I need cover art to publish it!!! If you have any ideas or are an artist who has somehow been inspired by this story, let me know!!! I want to link that for you all in the next update.
> 
> 5: Last but certainly not least, thank you all once again. You've been incredible, and your support means the World to me.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the update!!! Comments are always appreciated :)

The next morning, Louis was physically exhausted. If he had to take a guess as to why, the fact that he laid in his bed for God knows how long thinking, ‘Harry may still have feelings for me’ was probably the main culprit. The drunken things that were slurred out of Harry’s mouth the previous night along with Niall’s words repeated themselves in his head over again and again and again…and then again. There was no way he could avoid thinking about it, though, because it attached itself to Louis and sucked his blood like a leech. It worked its way into Louis’ bloodstream and became a part of the way he lived his life. For God’s sake, it wasn’t even subconscious anymore; it was in the front of his mind, and there was absolutely no way to escape it.  
The fact that Harry hasn’t found the right person yet because ‘it didn’t feel right’ or ‘they’re not the right person for me’ undoubtedly pointed to the fact that Harry was looking for something; whether that something was Louis or not was another question…but Niall told him, ‘I’ve seen him look at you in a way I’ve never seen him look at Michael…or, now that I’m thinking about it, anyone’ so Louis was going off on a hopeful limb and guessing that it was. And, of course: the beanie. Louis thought about all the times in the past month that he had seen Harry, and most of the time he wore the beanie. It frustrated Louis that he never noticed it before, and he mentally punched himself as hard as possible because how the fuck was he that oblivious? When Niall said that it was a ‘vital component’ of Harry’s wardrobe, he wasn’t kidding; Louis could confirm that with his own two eyes. However, there was a voice in the back of Louis’ mind that told him Harry may have forgotten that Louis gave it to him, and he wore it so often that it no longer held any meaning: it was just an item in his wardrobe. But Louis’ name on it was so damn prominent. If someone were to glance at the tag from the right side, there was no way that they couldn’t see it.  
Which got Louis thinking: had Michael ever seen it?  
Quite honestly, it would be strange if he didn’t. Fucking Michael would have to be completely blind to not even take note of it, although from what he knew about and experienced of him, Louis wouldn’t put that past his character. On the other hand, what would’ve happened if Michael did see it? He probably would’ve asked Harry who this ‘Louis’ was, and what would Harry have told him? That he was just some guy who he stole the beanie from when he was younger? That in the past, one of his friends, named Louis, forgot it was Harry’s birthday, so he gave him the beanie right off of his head? How many lies could possibly be made up about a beanie that had someone else’s name on it?  
How many lies could be told until the truth revealed itself? Where was the limit?  
Niall knew the entire truth, so how much did Michael know? If he knew anything, it would kind of explain why he was such a dick to Louis. Which, in a way, would be warranted, but in another way, fuck him.  
Fucking Michael.  
And where the hell was he these past two days? Shouldn’t Harry have consulted his boyfriend about the trauma he was going through? Why was Louis the person he called? Why was Louis the person he leaned on? Isn’t that supposed to be fucking Michael’s job? Isn’t it his job to be the designated crying shoulder? Isn’t it his job to go out with Harry and make sure he doesn’t get smashed? Is that really so difficult to do? And why did it seem like all of this was a job for Michael; it should be a part of his life, something he just does, not a job…shouldn’t it? Is it really so difficult to pick up the pieces for Harry when he can’t do it himself? And if Michael couldn’t do that, then why the fuck was Harry dating him? How did he deserve Harry if he couldn’t just…be there?  
‘It’s a situation of settling for what you can have rather than keep searching for what you want.’  
Right. In Niall’s opinion, that’s why they were still together.  
But maybe, just maybe, if Louis was what Harry wanted, he wouldn’t have to search anymore. After all, Harry admitted last night that he never forgot.  
And neither did Louis.

 

February had somehow melted into March within the last week, and Louis didn’t even notice. The past month had flown by without warning, and he couldn’t help but attribute that to the fact that for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was living again. He didn’t feel like a drone of himself anymore. He didn’t wake up and not feel like getting out of bed. He no longer went through life living like he had to live; he went through life living like he wanted to live.  
And yes, maybe Harry had a little something to do with that.  
But it wasn’t Harry who made him want to substitute his homebrewed coffee for a chai tea latte at Starbucks that morning. That was his craving. And fuck, did he pick the absolute worst time in the entire World to have that craving. Because right when he walked in the door, who else could’ve possibly been last in line?  
Honestly, it didn’t even surprise Louis; this would be his exact fucking luck.  
He should’ve expected this to happen at some point in the future; Lego House was only four blocks away from the Comcast Center. But he definitely didn’t expect it to happen. Ever. And Louis was about to walk straight out the door and skip the tea when he noticed the side of his head, but apparently Louis’ murmured “shit” didn’t come out as a murmur, and he turned around, looked up from the phone in his hand, and said in the haughtiest tone Louis has ever heard in his life,  
“Louis Tomlinson.” He had a smug look of distaste on his face, blue eyes maliciously judging Louis for every cent he was worth. Louis wanted to tell him never to say his name again because it sounded like nails being dragged on a chalkboard. He also wanted to say ‘fuck my life’, but decided against both because he was a grown man. He was a mature man. And Louis certainly wasn’t going to stoop down to douche bag level…until the situation gave him cause to.  
“Michael…” Shit. He didn’t know fucking Michael’s last name.  
“Clifford.” Michael said, filling in the void of Louis’ silence. Clifford: what type of name was that? Clifford. Michael fucking Clifford. Clifford: like the big red dog?  
“Michael Clifford.” Fuck, it wasn’t even that funny, but Louis couldn’t help the huge smile that overtook his face. His last name was Clifford. Like the big red dog. How the hell could he be competing for Harry with a guy named Clifford?  
“Yep.” He squinted his eyes as his lips formed a tightly compressed smile as if he knew exactly what was going on through Louis’ mind. And Louis couldn’t even give two shits. He just nodded his head. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”  
“Well…this isn’t exactly just ‘your neck of the woods’ because I work six blocks away from here.”  
“Oh. I didn’t know you were that close to me.”  
“Well, I am.” This time Michael nodded. A horribly rigid tension arose over the two of them like dew eternally floating over a tall mountain in the early morning. Louis briefly glanced back only to see that someone else was now standing behind him, so there was officially no way he was getting out of this. He looked in front of Michael as the line moved forward. Louis pointed his finger forward, “Line’s moving.” Michael walked forward, his body turning ever so slightly away from Louis’.  
“So…”  
“So…” Well at least it was clear that neither of them wanted to have this awkward encounter. The only thing that pulled them both together was Harry’s phantom presence that Louis could tell made both him and fucking Michael feel obligated to have a conversation. “How’ve you been?” Michael’s posture stiffened as he elongated his torso and held onto the strap of his messenger bag. He was near Harry’s height, and it seemed like he was trying to tower over Louis. And Louis got it: fucking Michael was taller than himself. He could look down at Louis. Big fucking deal.  
“I’ve been good. I took Harry out this past Sunday to Lacroix; you ever been there?” Shit. That was one of the most expensive restaurants in Philly; a single meal cost at least fifty dollars, and dinner for two could cost nearly one hundred and fifty dollars.  
“No…I can’t say I have.” Louis found himself subconsciously elongating his body, although it didn’t make him any taller.  
“Mmm, well it’s a fantastic place. Great food, but it’s definitely on the more expensive side,” Louis wanted to say, ‘No shit, really?’ Unfortunately, Michael kept his mouth blabbering: “but Harry likes it, and I don’t mind spending the money on him.” The side of Louis that was concerned for Harry’s well being was glad that Harry had a boyfriend who could take him out to expensive places to eat expensive food because that’s what Harry deserved: the best. But the best wasn’t always the most expensive. And the side of Louis that hated fucking Michael was infuriated that he was Harry’s boyfriend who took him out to expensive restaurants and flaunted it off to Louis. Just because he could take Harry out to a four star restaurant didn’t prove he was the better man. However, Louis put his pride aside when speaking for the sake of Harry,  
“I’m glad that he likes it.”  
“Yeah, it’s not my favorite place, but he definitely pays me back later on.” A mischievous smile overtook his face and he winked at Louis. He fucking winked: Louis never wanted to strangle someone more in his life. He had to physically ball up his hand into a fist and slam it on his thigh to avoid doing anything he would regret later on…although he might be doing the World a service by getting rid of this fucktard. And then Louis got the ingenious idea to put on the most serious face he could and ask,  
“I don’t understand: why does he have to pay you back if you were the one taking him out to dinner?” Michael’s smile closed a bit as his eyebrows sunk down his face. Louis used every bit of power he had left in him to not break his façade. Fucking Michael nodded after a few moments.  
“Good one.” His eyes went back down to his phone and Louis released the breath he didn’t know he was holding. He looked up at the ceiling and shook his head, asking the Universe, ‘why me?’ when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out, and on the screen was a message from Harry. Oh, the fucking irony his life had descended into.

From Harry: Thanks for walking me home last night. I seriously shouldn’t have gotten that drunk in the first place…sorry

At first, Louis smiled at the text because it meant that Harry was vaguely aware of what happened last night. Hopefully he remembered their conversation while walking back to Harry’s apartment. Then his smile became larger because it was Louis who he was texting, and not Michael. But then he realized that Harry could easily text two people at once, and his smile dissipated when he looked over at Michael who was similarly looking down at his phone and typing something out, presumably texting someone. 

To Harry: It’s fine, you shouldn’t be sorry. Trust me, sometimes we all have issues with self control. How are you feeling?

Louis heard Michael clear his throat before feeling his eyes surveying Louis’ entire body. Maybe he was currently under the eyes of scrutiny, but Louis tried to hold himself up so there was nothing to scrutinize. Louis noticed that he and Michael were wearing similar dark blue suits…although it looked better on himself.  
“Harry tells me the building has a lot of…potential.” Louis knew straight off the bat that those words never came out of Harry’s mouth. That wasn’t a Harry phrase. That was a fucking Michael phrase to try and make Louis feel shitty about his job and relationship with Harry. Asshole.  
“Yeah. If we ever had to add another floor because the practice gets so big, we definitely could.”  
“Good, I’m excited to see that day when it comes.” Alright so Michael just implied he was sticking around for a long time and worded it in a way that Louis couldn’t offend him without offending Harry. Well played. Maybe Louis didn’t give him enough credit. He tightened his lips into a firm-lined smile and focused his attention on the phone vibrating in his hand.

From Harry: Truer words have never been spoken. I’m okay-ish. Hopefully going to work will help

To Harry: Yeah, seeing your other patients will probably be good. Speaking of going to work, I decided I wanted a chai tea latte today so I’m in Starbucks. Guess who I’m behind of in line?

“Anything exciting happen in your life since we last saw each other?” Michael asked absent-mindedly.  
“Just work.” ‘And seeing your boyfriend more than you have’ he thought. “You?”  
“Just Harry.” Louis raised his eyebrows at that, because was it really necessary to inform Louis every single second that he was dating Harry? Fucking Michael returned the look, and Louis felt like he was looking into a mirror. He almost laughed at how comical the situation was. Almost. He focused his attention back down to his phone so he wouldn’t roll his eyes.

From Harry: Will Smith???

To Harry: Good guess but nope. Michael Clifford.

The line finally reached the cashier, and Louis looked up to see Michael ordering.  
“Can I have a tall chai tea latte? No milk, though. I don’t like the steamed milk.” And Louis wasn’t sure how or why that triggered it, but the realization was so obvious that it was literally staring him in the face this entire time: Michael was the douchier version of Louis. Firstly, their looks: blue eyes and the average body. They weren’t athletes or models, but they were both in the same decent shape. And the eyes…Louis instantly thought of last night when Harry told him he had really blue eyes. Apparently, Harry had a thing for blue eyes. Secondly, their personality to people they didn’t like: snarky, outspoken at times, competitive, and sarcastic. That fact spoke for itself. Thirdly, their similar wardrobe: they were both currently wearing a navy blue suit with a white-collared shirt underneath. The only difference was that Michael wore a black tie, whereas Louis wore a deep green one. And lastly, tying them together were their relationship’s with Harry. It all made sense: Harry was dating the douchier version of Louis, but ‘it didn’t feel right’ and ‘I neva forgottabout you’. This was fucking outrageous. Louis could barely believe it; if he never met Michael or had a conversation with him, he definitely wouldn’t believe it. This time, Louis actually did laugh. How the fuck was this his life?  
When Louis walked up to the cashier right after Michael, he ordered: “Can I have a tall chai tea latte? And yes, I want the steamed milk. In fact, why don’t you give me his steamed milk too since he doesn’t want it? I don’t understand why people would want to waste milk.” Part of it was that he wanted to prove to himself and Michael that they weren’t the same person, and the other part was that he was just being a loud, sarcastic fuck. That made the cashier uncomfortably laugh, but Michael shot him daggers: goal accomplished.  
So yes, this was all starting to make sense. Harry never forgot about Louis, Harry never found the right person, and now he was dating a mock-Louis because he was settling.  
Now, all Louis wondered was if Harry realized all of this.

From Harry: Really? Wow…small World.

To Harry: Not small enough.

 

His venture to Starbucks made him arrive at the firm twenty minutes later than usual, and he ended up walking into the building at the same time as Perrie. Louis was immediately greeted with a warm smile and a cheery wave when he saw her in the elevator. Truth be told, he never really talked to her that much outside of the firm. At work, Louis could always count on her to have the same opinion of a topic as him if he was ever in an argument with someone. Louis knew that their views and outlooks on the World were remarkably similar. He knew that she graduated from Pratt Institute in the top ten percent of her class, and she kept up with current politics; whenever something was brought up that was described as even a centimeter inaccurate, she would be the one to point it out and set the record straight. She was perfectly nice, polite, and civil, knew how to hold a conversation, was sometimes a bit outspoken, and always carried around an ironic sort of cheeriness with her. Her hair was bleached blond so that she could dye the tips of it pink, and her brightly colored outfits that always had an edge of punk to them resembled her quirkiness and the artistic side of her personality. It was pretty easy to understand why Zayn found her so attractive.  
Those were the facts that Louis knew about Perrie, but anything about her home or family life, besides the fact that she was fucking Zayn, was beyond his knowledge. They were friends inside of the firm, but they had never actively perused that relationship outside of work. This was the first time that Louis thought he probably should, considering she was dating his best friend and was a genuinely likeable person. He mentally wrote that down on his mind’s ‘to do’ list as he joined her in the elevator.  
“Hey Louis!” The light shone off of her nose ring, and Louis briefly wondered if that piercing had ever impaired her breathing in any way. He had never really been a fan of nose rings, and his parents certainly hadn’t either; when Lottie secretly got one when she was eighteen, their parents nearly threw her out of the house. Of course, he only found out about that through a letter that Lottie sent him asking if she could come live with him for the summer. Sometimes, he regrets making her stay at home before she went to Vanderbilt, but he knew that if he let her come, it would only further strain his relationship with his parents. Nonetheless, the nose ring looked good on Perrie, and it shined in all of its silver glory.  
“Morning, how are you?”  
“It’s Thursday and I woke up thinking it was Friday, so I think that should give you a pretty good idea of how my morning’s been.” The elevator doors shut and Perrie pressed the floor number. Louis huffed out a breath to himself,  
“Mine’s been pretty similar, Perrie, pretty similar…”  
“You think it was Saturday?”  
“Something along those lines of shittiness.” Perrie stayed silent and the only thing Louis heard was the hum of the elevator. He looked over at her and noticed she was raising an eyebrow at him; there were never any bags under her eyes, and Louis envied her for that. “What?”  
“You can be very…open-ended, at times.”  
“Open-ended?”  
“Yeah; there could be, like, eighty different shitty things that match up to me thinking it’s Friday.” Louis shrugged and looked at the floor number climbing up.  
“That’s the joy of life.”  
“Ambiguity?”  
“Something like that.” Perrie huffed out a breath,  
“You just proved my point.”  
“Glad I could help. How are things with Zayn?”  
“They’re good, yeah, really good.” There was an immediate change to Perrie’s tone of voice; it got softer and her words floated up into the air, sailing through the space like bright stars on a clear night, when she talked about Zayn. It instantly caught Louis’ attention, and made something inside of him feel lighter at the idea of those two feeling that way about one another. However, there was a nagging rope that was being furiously tugged inside of his stomach. Louis knew the feel of that familiar strain: it was jealousy. It seemed like everyone but Louis had someone that they could call their own and talk about in that jovial, belated, and blissful sort-of way. Zayn had Perrie, Liam had Danielle, Lottie had Joe, Niall had Amy, and, of course, Harry had fucking Michael. The rope was violently pulled when he thought about the latter; it made Louis want to punch a wall.  
“I hope he’s being a gentleman.”  
“He always is.”  
“Good, good…” Louis paused, “you like his technique?” Perrie let out a cackle,  
“You really want to go there?”  
“Just making sure my employees are satisfied with their lives – ”  
“Zayn’s right: you seriously need to get laid.” That comment stopped him right in his tracks,  
“What?”  
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”  
“Zayn thinks I need to get laid?”  
“Your hand can only work so many wonders before – ” Wow. Okay: Louis did not want to have this conversation with her. This was not the path he wanted to go down.  
“Okay! I’m sorry I ever asked! Let’s never talk about this again, agreed?” Louis’ face was burning; he could even feel blood rushing to the tops of his ears. God, this was embarrassing. He would seriously need to make Zayn pay for this at some point. When he looked down at Perrie, she was giggling like a little schoolgirl, clearly enjoying herself.  
“You brought it up.”  
“And I’m painfully regretting doing that right now.” The doors to the elevator opened and Louis walked out, Perrie following behind and patting him on the back.  
“It’s this thing I like to call karma: you get what you give.”  
“I must’ve given some really shitty things in my life, then.”  
“I’m sure your blowjobs are fine.” Wow. He probably should’ve been offended, but his respect for Perrie was only growing through this conversation.  
“You’ve managed to completely turn this around and I don’t know whether to be mortified that I let it get this far, or impressed that you took it this far.”  
“Well, when you figure it out, you know where to find me.” Louis opened the door for her,  
“Underneath Zayn?” That received a glare from her as she walked by. Yep: this was the direction he expected their conversation to go in. He couldn’t help but feel a bit satisfied with himself.  
“On top, actually.” Although Louis could’ve gone his entire life without knowing Zayn and Perrie’s preferred sex position, it was a decent comeback.  
“Touché.” The two of them walked into the firm to find Zayn at the center table, starting a new model, back towards them. Perrie looked at Louis, put a finger to her lips, signaling for him to be quiet, and flounced over to him, using her fingers to pinch both sides of his hips. He turned around, a beaming smile engulfing his face, and pulled a giggling Perrie into his arms, murmuring a quiet,  
“Good morning to you too.” The entire scene was sickeningly full of affection; the way they looked at each other, the way they smiled at each other, and the way they held each other. The only thing they saw was the other; hell, Zayn hadn’t even noticed Louis was standing a few feet away from them. They stared at each other in awe, like the other one hung the stars in the sky. For the first time, Louis felt like he understood the degree of intensity of their relationship. This wasn’t a fling: this was a relationship. This was past the point of infatuation: this was love.  
And fuck, did Louis want that.  
The two of them backed out of the hug, and Zayn glanced over Perrie’s shoulder to see Louis: “Lou! Liam and I thought you might be dead.” Louis raised his left hand over his heart and felt the thudding against his skin.  
“Uhh…nope. Still beating so I think we’re good.” Zayn shook his head at him. Perrie tapped Zayn’s chest and his gaze immediately fell back down to her.  
“I can’t do Saturday.” She told him. He was absent-mindedly running a hand up and down her left arm.  
“What? Why not?”  
“I’m taking my parents to visit three retirement homes.”  
“Since when?”  
“They called last night.”  
“Oh.” Zayn’s tone fell down, and Louis could hear the hope inside his voice fall down with it. For some reason or another, that tugged a string inside of Louis’ chest.  
“Yeah…can you do tomorrow night?”  
“I told you I was having a boys night with Louis and Liam.”  
“Right, I forgot.” And for some other reason or another, that made Louis feel stupidly guilty. He didn’t want to be the reason that Zayn and Perrie couldn’t go out that week, and god damn it: since when was he a hopeless romantic? “Umm…”  
“Zayn!” Louis called out. The couple looked at him, “I forgot to tell you that after work tomorrow I’m driving up to my parent’s house for the weekend.” Maybe it wasn’t the best excuse, and maybe Zayn gave him a quizzical look, but this was a spur-of-the-moment decision that they would both be grateful for later on, and Louis just kept going. “How about you, Liam, and I go out tonight instead?”  
“Oh, are – ” Louis didn’t leave time for Zayn to put up a debate,  
“I’m gonna go tell Liam.” And with that, Louis made his way into Liam’s office, his good deed of the day accomplished. When he opened the door, Liam’s head popped up like a whack-a-mole.  
“Hey – ”  
“We’re going out tonight instead of tomorrow night.”  
“Oh. Umm…why?”  
“Because I said so.”  
“Alright then.” Louis flashed a grin at him before backing out of the room, “Wait, hold on!” He turned around to see Liam giving him his classic ‘stop right there’ look. “What’s going on?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean you look…wired.”  
“Wired?” Liam shook his head and began to wave his hand around.  
“No, not wired. You look like…like you’ve just discovered life on Mars or something monumental like that.”  
“I have no idea what you’re trying to ask right now.”  
“Something happened, didn’t it?”  
“Something is always happening, Liam. Like us, talking right now: this is happening – ”  
“You know what I mean.” Liam glared at Louis, clearly annoyed with the sarcasm. Louis decided to drop the act,  
“Alright. Yes: a lot of ‘somethings’ happened.”  
“Care to explain?”

 

Louis did explain.  
It turned out that he couldn’t wait until after work, though, so at eleven o’clock, the three of them found themselves taking a two hour lunch break and eating at a restaurant three blocks away. And that was when Louis talked non-stop for a solid twenty minutes, explaining everything that had uncovered itself within the past week, barely taking complete breaths in between his sentences. Liam and Zayn tried to ask a question every now and then, but there was no room in between Louis’ words for them to do so. Finally, when he did finish with, “So…yeah.” Zayn looked back and forth between him and Liam for a few seconds, and then declared,  
“He wants your dick.”  
“Not how I was going to phrase it,” Liam said, “but yeah. That pretty much hits the nail on the head.”  
“The head of Lou’s penis.”  
“Alright, again, not what I was going for – ”  
“Okay, okay, I get it. Thank you.” Louis interjected, “Now would one of you like to suggest how I get there?”  
“His penis?”  
“Zayn, I’m trying to be serious right now.”  
“But that’s basically what you’re asking advice for.”  
“Fine! Yes: I wanna fuck him!” The words were supposed to come out in his normal decibel, but he accidentally shouted them. People at more than five different tables looked in their direction. Louis didn’t care: this was his life and it needed to be sorted out.  
“Calm down, Sergio.” Zayn said, holding his hands out in front of him.  
“I don’t want just that, though. I want…fuck. I want a lasting relationship with him. I want to completely be with him. I want what Niall has with Amy, I want what you two have with Perrie and Danielle. I just…I want love.” Louis slumped down and hid his face in his hands, sort of in disbelief and embarrassment that those words just came out of his mouth. “God, I sound like such a pathetic fucking sap right now.”  
“Yeah, kind of.” Liam agreed.  
“Thanks.” Louis slurred into his hands.  
“No, but this is…Louis, this is good.”  
“How is it good if it doesn’t turn out good?”  
“First off, you don’t know that it won’t turn out good. And secondly, it’s good because it’s pretty clear that he wants the same thing with you.” Louis lifted his head out of his hands.  
“You don’t know that.”  
“But you do.”  
“Not really – ”  
“Louis, I swear to God if you doubt yourself again, I will not hesitate to circumcise all the doubt out of you.” Zayn said. Louis lifted his hands up in defeat,  
“Okay, I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t be sorry: stop doubting the things you know are true.” Louis twirled the straw around in his glass of water.  
“So…you do think that he wants to be with me?”  
“Did I not say he wants your dick?” Zayn exasperatedly asked.  
“Yes.” Liam answered, ignoring Zayn’s response; Louis nodded. A part of him was over the moon because he wasn’t making this up. With Zayn and Liam agreeing with him, it confirmed that this was reality. But then a part of him was absolutely paralyzed, because he wasn’t making this up. This was his life and there would be a definite solution to it at some point. Whether that solution meant he ended up with Harry or not was what really made him feel extraordinarily terrified.  
“So…how do I go about the whole ‘you’re dating someone else but you should be dating me’ thing?”  
“Honestly, I don’t really think you can.” Louis was not expecting that answer.  
“Liam…”  
“Hear me out, okay? It’s not like you can just really say ‘why are you dating Michael when I’m right here’ because then he’ll be put on the defense and it’ll sound like an interrogation and – you just don’t want that.” Okay. Point taken.  
“What do you suggest?”  
“Well…as much as I hate to say this, this is kind of something that Harry needs to figure out on his own.”  
“Why do you hate to say that?”  
“Because you can’t really do anything about that besides just being there for him.”  
“Umm…what?”  
“If you swoop in and try anything right now, he’ll be taken off guard, he won’t think straight, and he might do exactly what you’re doing now and doubt everything because he doesn’t know how to believe that this is exactly the truth.” Louis just stared at Liam, who huffed out a short breath when he realized he’d have to further explain his reasoning. “Prove to him that this is the truth. He needs to know and be certain that this is reality before he makes a decision that’ll change his life. You can’t just ask him if he realizes that he’s doing this, this, and this, because he probably doesn’t. He needs to understand all of this on his own and think it through; but it’s not like you can’t help him come to the realization.” Louis just sat there, trying to process the advice just given to him.  
“Liam: what the fuck am I doing with my life?”  
“The exact same thing that you’ve been doing.”  
“I can’t keep doing this.”  
“Just be patient.”  
“Patience isn’t in my vocabulary.”  
“Bullshit.” Zayn called out. “You’ve been patient enough to wait sixteen years; I’m sure a few more weeks or months won’t hurt you.”  
“If I see Michael again, I might go insane.”  
“Then don’t go to Starbucks anymore and bam: that problem’s solved.”  
“I don’t know how much longer I can see Harry and not…”  
“Fall to your knees?”  
“He’s not going to propose to him, Zayn.” Zayn slowly shook his head with a slick smile plastered onto his face,  
“That’s not what I was suggesting.” Liam nudged him in the stomach with his elbow,  
“Get your mind out of the gutter.” Although Zayn’s mockery was being directed towards Louis, he couldn’t help but laugh at the dynamic between the three of them. As much as Louis might ‘hate’ those two idiots sitting across from him, he loved them so much more.  
“Why I ever put my trust in you two, I have no idea…”  
“Because we have charisma.” Zayn answered, putting emphasis on each vowel in ‘charisma’.  
“Of course you do.”

 

At five o’clock on Friday night, Louis got a text from Harry saying ‘hey, last minute plans to go out with Michael tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow night?’  
A huge part of Louis said ‘fuck Liam’s advice and ask where they’re going’ just so Louis could show up there and stop the date from happening. The rational part of Louis’ mind won, though, and he told Harry ‘sure’. Not even a ‘have fun’ because there was no fun when Michael was involved…or, at least, there shouldn’t be.  
Part of Louis wished that he actually did drive to his parent’s house so he wouldn’t be at his apartment eating pizza, tears streaming down his face as he watched Silver Linings Playbook alone on a Friday night. Louis could barely remember a time when he could watch movies and not get emotional. His miniscule tears weren’t because of his frustration with his own life. No, they were because of the frustration playing out on the screen in front of him.  
And dammit, was Louis frustrated with frustration.

 

Harry’s apartment was exactly how Louis remembered it. The only thing that changed was the aroma of garlic from the homemade garlic bread and marinara sauce for the spaghetti Harry cooked. Oh, and the fact that Harry had a massive hickey on his neck that he tried to cover up with a collared shirt. It didn’t work; Louis spent the majority of the night looking at the red-purple mark peeping out of the shirt like a constant reminder of what Louis couldn’t have. Every time he looked at it, he heard Michael’s scornful smile directed at Louis. He put it there on purpose, Louis was sure of that.  
Their dinner was quiet for the most part. Louis didn’t really talk because his mouth was occupied with homemade pasta, which was definitely sent from the Heavens, and partially because he was pissed off about the hickey. He didn’t actually have a right to be that mad, and maybe he was overreacting, but fuck, did he hate fucking Michael with a passion. Whenever he looked up from his plate, he saw Harry fooling around with his collar. Quite frankly, it made Louis feel like shit. So he tried to avoid looking at Harry.  
After dinner, Harry was putting dishes away while Louis surveyed Harry’s living room, specifically the bookshelf. Surprisingly, his CDs were for the most part classic rock. The shelf was filled with Led Zepplin, Pink Floyd, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Cream, The Who, Queen, and even Bon Jovi. He also had every Oasis, Radiohead, and Coldplay album that ever existed along with at least eleven bands and or singers that Louis had never heard of in his entire life. The next shelf was crowded with picture frames filled of captured moments. Louis recognized Niall in the center of one of the pictures; he was in a tuxedo, surrounded by other guys in tuxedos, and Harry to his right. That was undoubtedly taken on the day Niall got married. The picture next to it was definitely taken a while ago, because Harry looked more like the eighteen-year-old Harry Louis once knew. His hair was splayed everywhere, he wore a blue dress shirt, the top four buttons were undone, and he was giving a piggyback ride to a girl who looked like she was about four. Louis had no question in his mind that the girl was Gemma; her face looked soft and untouched, her wide green eyes resembled Harry’s, and they both had on the same dimpled smile.  
“I’m sorry.” Harry’s quiet voice came from behind Louis. He turned around to see Harry’s downcast face, and before Louis could ask why he was sorry, Harry said, “I would’ve let you known sooner that Michael was gonna take me out Friday night, but it was really last minute and I feel really bad – ”  
“Harry, stop. It’s okay.”  
“Yeah, but – ”  
“Harry.” Louis said sternly; it came out harsher than Louis wanted it to, but Harry stopped talking about fucking Michael. So that was good. “You doubt yourself too much.” Okay, maybe he was taking Liam’s advice to the next level, but a slight push never hurt anyone.  
“I know.” Harry basically had on a pout, and Louis couldn’t stand to look at him like this anymore. He turned back towards the bookcase and occupied his eyes with things that weren’t directly Harry. They stood like that for a few moments. Louis tried to focus on the trinkets, which were a bit strange: a small ceramic pinch pot, three elephant figurines with their trunks up, a dried out small rose, and a miniscule rock. As if Harry could sense Louis’ confusion, he said “The rose is from my graduation.” Louis turned back around again to see Harry staring the shelf with a distant look in his eyes. “Mom gave it to me when I got my doctorate.”  
“You kept it?” Harry nodded in affirmation. “What about the elephants?”  
“Feng shui.”  
“Feng what?” Harry quietly giggled,  
“Feng shui. It’s a belief that comes from ancient China…it’s like, ummm…it’s something that’s supposed to balance the energies in a space.”  
“The elephants balance the energy…” Harry tilted his head, his eyes squinted and his mouth smiling with his dimples showing,  
“You’re making it sound stupid.”  
“No I’m not, I’m just not really understanding the concept.”  
“They have their trunks up, which makes them a symbol for good luck, protection, wisdom, and knowledge.” Honestly, Louis was a bit perplexed by how an elephant figurine could mean all of those things. But, if Harry liked it, then Louis would accept it.  
“Oh…cool. So you’re into that sort of yin-yang stuff?”  
“Buddhism, Taoism, and Confucianism?”  
“Yeah, that.”  
“You know that they’re not all the same thing.”  
“Yes: I’m not that dumb.” Louis wasn’t going to admit it, but he had no idea what the differences between the three were. He knew they were three different religions, but they meshed together into one ‘thing’ inside of his mind. That didn’t make him ignorant, though…did it? “Do you like that stuff or not?”  
“I mean…yeah. I think it’s pretty cool. I don’t, like, affiliate with any religion, but that doesn’t mean I can’t like certain things about each one.” This was definitely an interesting new side of Harry that Louis was learning about. Harry had no religious affiliation, but he liked different things about different religions, which was…well, Louis had never even thought about before. “You’re judging me.”  
“No, I’m not, actually. I’m just thinking. Don’t be so quick to make assumptions.” Harry blatantly scoffed at that. “What?”  
“Nothing. Just thinking.” Louis heard the cynicism in Harry’s voice, and tried to resist rolling his eyes. This was definitely not worth getting in an argument about.  
“What about the pot?”  
“Gemma made it for me when she was in…third grade, I think.”  
“And the rock?” Harry sucked in a breath and his stature physically stiffened up.  
“It’s just a rock.” That was an obvious lie, Louis was sure of it. It was plain to see by Harry’s change in stance that he was holding something back. But how much meaning could a rock have? Knowing Harry, it was probably the key to solving World hunger or something along those lines.  
“Just a rock?”  
“Yeah.”  
“You can be really random at times, you know that?”  
“I’m not as random as you think.”

 

So the days went on. They talked every night, just as usual. Everything went according to the schedule. Nothing changed.  
The next Sunday came around the bend and Harry was supposed to come over to Louis’ for dinner. Apparently Michael had made reservations at a restaurant a month ago, though, and had failed to tell Harry about it until two days beforehand. It was hard not to notice a trend, and if Louis didn’t know any better, he would guess that Michael found out from Harry when he was supposed to see Louis and then make ‘old plans’ within a days notice. And maybe if Louis didn’t truly hate Michael before, he fucking despised him now.  
To make up for it, Harry came over to Louis’ for dinner Wednesday night, March 19th. Everything was going fine. Everything was normal.  
Until it wasn’t.  
They were eating Chinese take-out food because Louis was lazy and didn’t feel like cooking that night. Their feet brushed together under the table as always, but Louis didn’t want to give that too much thought.  
“No he’s not.”  
“Yes he is.”  
“No, he’s definitely not.”  
“How could you not think Ronaldo is the best soccer player?”  
“Have you even heard of Beckham?”  
“C’mon, Lou, Beckham’s time is over.”  
“How could you even think that?”  
“He’s retired!”  
“That doesn’t change the fact that he’s one of the best football players the World has ever – ”  
Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
They were brought out of their friendly banter, which Louis was definitely right about, by the insistent ringing of a phone.  
“Is that you or me?” Harry asked. Louis had no idea why someone would be calling him right now.  
Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
“Ummm,” Louis put down his fork and quickly reached into his back pocket. His phone’s screen was black.  
Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
“It’s not me.”  
Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
“Shit. Whatever, I don’t really feel like getting up.”  
“Where’s your phone?”  
“In my bag by the door.” Louis nodded and continued eating. The ringing stopped and they stayed in silence for a few seconds. Part of Louis was curious as to who was calling Harry right now, and he had a nagging suspicion that it was fucking Michael. However, he tried to push that curiosity away.  
That was, until the muffled ringing started up again.  
Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
“Could you get your phone?” Harry put down his fork and leaned back in his chair.  
“I don’t feel like talking to people.”  
“You’re talking to me.”  
“You’re not people.”  
“Am I an alien?” Harry chuckled,  
“You know what I mean.” No, Louis didn’t really know what Harry meant, and he would’ve followed that path if that damn ringing wasn’t taunting them.  
Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
“Your phone is gonna drive me insane.”  
“Ignore it.” Louis shook his head.  
“I can’t. Get your phone.”  
Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
Harry heavily sighed, pushed out his chair, and walked over to his bag.  
Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
Harry finally managed to pull out his phone, his face burrowing in between a mix of confusion and concern when he looked down at the screen.  
Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
“Who is it?”  
“Rita.” Oh…well at least it wasn’t Michael.  
“Oh.” Harry quickly answered the call and brought the phone up to his ear.  
“Hello?” The way Harry said that one word made Louis’ intestines tie themselves up in knots; he sounded afraid. “What’s wrong?” Oh no. Those were definitely not the words that should be coming out of Harry’s mouth. The room was silent as Harry’s eyebrows creased down further, and further, and further, and further, and his chest expanded less, and less, and less with each breath, and his legs seemed to get flimsier, and flimsier, and flimsier.  
Louis could feel the World stop for a moment when the next word came out of Harry’s mouth: “What?”  
Louis didn’t know how or why, but he knew what had happened as soon as Harry’s head fell downwards. As soon as he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, Louis knew.  
This wasn’t good.  
“How?………Why didn’t they – ……Okay, I just…I’m – ” Harry’s voice cracked, and Louis could tell something inside of him cracked with it. “I’m not home right now. Can I call you back in half an hour?……Okay……Yeah, I’ll call everyone……When?……of course I will……I will…Love you too.” Harry stayed in place, inhaling a deep, shaky breath, his right hand still pinching his nose and eyes still closed. Louis didn’t realize he was frozen in his seat like an iceberg until Harry pocketed his phone and moved for the first time in what seemed like centuries.  
“Haz?” He still didn’t move. Louis took that as his cue to get up and walk over to him. The floor creaked with each step he took, and the sound was a frightening reminder of reality. Louis stopped when he was only a few inches away from Harry’s slouched body; he raised his right hand up to Harry’s left bicep and gently grasped onto him. “Hey, Haz?” He whispered; Louis didn’t know what else to say. Harry slowly nodded his head,  
“I, ummm…my Dad…” Harry didn’t want to say it. Louis didn’t want to hear it. But this was reality, and the harsh truth of it will suck the life out of anything it can get its hands on. Harry brought his hand down from his face and opened his eyes: they were rimmed red and softly glistening with vulnerability. Harry still didn’t want to say it. Louis still didn’t want to hear it. But they both knew it had to be done. “My Dad had a stroke…and he…he died.” Louis’ stomach dropped. Louis’ heart plunged down. But looking at Harry…that made Louis feel like his whole body was descending into spikes. There was no way to avoid the unavoidable. There was no way to stop the pain from paining. There was no way for Louis to stop his love and sympathy for Harry to come pouring out. “I have to go home.”  
“Harry – ”  
“I’m sorry, I just…I need to…I have to sort everything out, I have to call everybody, I have to make funeral arrangements, I have to get a coffin, I have to get a plane ticket – ”  
“Harry – ”  
“ – I have to go to Raleigh – ”  
“Harry – ”  
“ – I have to go to Raleigh…” Harry’s words slowed down from the speed he was ranting at before, “I have to go to Raleigh…I have to go.”  
“Okay.” Harry backed out of Louis’ touch to bend down and grab his bag. A part of Louis didn’t understand why Harry wasn’t completely breaking down right now. Another part of him understood why all too much: it was shock. Nothing had really settled in yet. When and where it would settle in was what worried Louis more than anything else right now. He wanted to keep Harry here, but Harry was set on going back to his place, and Louis knew better than to argue with Harry at this moment. He settled for “Get home safe.” Harry opened the door himself, as if he was trying to speed up time. His words…his actions…he was moving too quickly. Louis realized that Harry was just trying to escape from this moment; he didn’t blame him.  
“I will.”  
“Text me when you get home, please.”  
“Okay.”  
“Promise?” Harry looked at Louis one more time. When their gazes met, Louis saw a flash of something in his eyes. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was pain. Maybe it was sorrow. Maybe it was a bombshell. Maybe it was a revelation. Maybe it was light. But it was gone within an instant, and Louis couldn’t tell which shock of lightening had just blazed through Harry’s body.  
“Promise.”  
And as soon as Harry rushed out the door, Louis knew that everything was about to change.  
Whether it was for the better or the worse, he had no idea.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!!  
> Long time, no update, and I'm really sorry for that. I didn't mean for the wait to be this long, but sometimes life has a funny way of tapping you on the shoulder and saying "hey, look at me!"  
> I wanted to thank you all for being so patient; seriously, the fact that you're willing to wait this long speaks volumes. Your continued support has really kept me going and I'm so thankful for it :)
> 
> From here on out, chapters will probably be as long as this one because there's a lot of significant stuff going on and I'm trying to keep it as realistic as possible. That being said, there's a huge change in location in this update with a ton of new important characters and I'd love to hear your feedback on it!
> 
> Also, I made an 8tracks for the story including (but not limited to) all the songs that have been/will be mentioned. Thanks to tasha8694 for the amazing cover!! The link is here: http://8tracks.com/evancalous/to-destroy-a-dam 
> 
> Hopefully the next update will be up much sooner than this one was (I'm aiming for a few weeks). Anyway, I'd love to hear comments (they literally make my life 100x better) and kudos are always appreciated :) I hope you enjoy!!!

Louis grabbed his phone off of the bedside table. He tried avoiding it in attempt of waiting until he heard the ‘buzz’, but he had given up on that at 10:30. It was a hopeless fight; it always had been. There was no point in trying to shun his phone if he constantly had a third eye on it. His finger clicked the home button before he had fully brought the phone into his line of vision, and the sudden brightness illuminating out of an otherwise entirely dark room made him feel like he was going blind. He squinted his eyes to focus his vision, and it was only find no banner indicating a text from Harry.  
At 8:27, Harry texted Louis saying ‘I’m home’. Relief flooded over Louis when he saw the text, but it was quickly replaced with dismay when he realized that Harry would soon be calling all of his family members to inform them of the news. At 8:28, Louis texted Harry: ‘Good. How are you feeling?’ There was no immediate response.  
Then it was 8:45, and Louis got skittish.  
Then it was 9:00, and Louis was concerned.  
Then it was 10:00, and Louis was distressed.  
At multiple times throughout the night he found himself intensely staring at his phone, as if he was trying to summon a text to come through. Yet time dragged by like it was attempting to walk with an anchor clamped onto its ankles: it barely moved, and Louis couldn’t stand it. He opened Harry’s contact five times and debated calling him, but each time Louis convinced himself out of it. The call probably wouldn’t go through because Harry was most likely on the phone with some devastated family member, trying to calm them down, while at the same time trying to hold himself together. This was far too much for one person to handle, and Harry didn’t deserve to have the burden placed onto his shoulders. Sure, Harry knew how to hold it together on the outside for the sake of the people he cared about, but it was obvious to Louis that he was shattering on the inside like an egg being hit with a fork and cracking; it was only a matter of time before the yolk poured out of the fragmented shell. Louis felt the intense need to help Harry in any way he physically could. The only problem was that he had to get a hold of Harry first, which seemed next to impossible at this moment in time.  
Louis’ mind wandered back to all those years ago when he first met Harry’s Dad; images flooded into his head of the cheery, plump, grey-haired old man leaning over to tell Harry something, narrating a story to a table of family members and close friends, or cracking a joke to break the ice. From what he remembered, Mr. Styles and Harry were pretty close, but more in a friend-to-friend way than a father-son relationship. That wasn’t to say that his Dad didn’t play the role of ‘father’, he just saw the role and decided to alter it to fit his suiting. No matter the relationship between the two, Louis couldn’t comprehend the fact that Mr. Styles had died. He couldn’t imagine Harry’s Dad not being here on Earth. He couldn’t imagine Harry never being able to talk to his Dad again. He couldn’t imagine Harry living the rest of his life without a Dad. Death seemed like a foreign concept, and yet here it was, inviting itself into Harry’s front door. And Louis really had no idea how to deal with it; all he knew was that his stomach churned and his heart fell when he thought about it.  
At 10:30 with still no text from Harry, it had been more than two hours and Louis was worried: surely Harry had called everyone, hadn’t he? How many people did he have to call? How many hours did it take? Louis was done with waiting and avoiding and said, “fuck it”. He texted Harry, this time saying ‘I’m always here for you. If you need anything, I’m here.’  
The fact that it was now 11:55 and Harry had still yet to respond was a mix between frustrating, confusing, and unnerving. Simply put: Louis was on edge. He had been for a while. And fuck, was he sick of it. But how can someone get off an edge without falling and plunging into their demise?  
Louis didn’t know, so he placed his phone down once more and tried to give himself over to sleep instead.

 

Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
The sound gradually became louder and louder, pulling Louis out of the dark, quiet, dreaming lull he was in.  
Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
How the fuck was it already the morning? He felt like he was being woken up from a power nap. Going to bed past midnight probably wasn’t the smartest idea since his body was currently reacting at the rate of a slug. He kept his eyes shut as he reached out a limp hand for his phone to turn the alarm on snooze; he would probably skip the running this morning and sleep in instead.  
Do-do-doo-do-do-do-dodo-do  
“Shut uppppp.” Louis groaned while absently swiping a finger across the bottom of the screen. The ringing silenced, and Louis huffed out a breath of relief. But then, from the direction of his phone, he heard a quiet,  
“Hello?” And what the hell? Was somebody in his room? He forced his eyes open and saw his phone lit up on the table. “Louis?” The voice cracked and something in Louis’ mind went into overdrive as he realized that the voice was clearly Harry’s; he just answered a call from Harry. His head went dizzy with blood as he briskly sat up and pulled the phone up to his ear.  
“Harry?” His voice came out dry and he swallowed a gulp in order to make up for the lack of water on hand.  
“Hi.” It was Harry. That was Harry’s weak, tired, groggy voice. Shit, Louis had absolutely no idea what was going on. He rubbed his eyes with his fist and tried to form coherent words.  
“Hi – ummm, hi.”  
“Sorry, I shouldn’t…I woke you up – I’m sorry.” Harry flustered out.  
“No, no, it’s fine…umm, it’s fine…” Louis sat there for a few seconds, waiting for Harry to say something, but nothing came from his line of the phone. “How, umm, how’re you?” Harry deeply sighed.  
“I dunno.” Louis heard a muffled sound and guessed Harry had just flopped down onto his bed. It also sounded like Harry wasn’t in the mood to talk about how he was feeling, so Louis tried steering the conversation away from that.  
“You called everyone?”  
“Yeah.”  
“How, ummm, how’s everyone doing?”  
“They’re just…as to be expected, I guess. I have to go to Raleigh.”  
“When?”  
“I just reserved the jet for today. I still have connections to the Charter Dad used, and for short trips they just need a four hour notice – ”  
“A charter?”  
“Yeah, it’s what big companies use to send their employees places.”  
“So…is it like a helicopter?”  
“It’s a private jet. The size depends on where you’re flying.”  
“Oh, so…you’re leaving today?”  
“Yeah.”  
“That’s – wait, what time is it?”  
“Two am.”  
“As in the morning?”  
“Yeah.” So Harry was calling him at 2 am; if Louis had to guess, he’d guess that Harry had been up this entire time. “I’m sorry, I know this might sound a bit weird or sudden or…well, it is. But I was…you said that if I needed anything I could call you and…ummm…” Harry kept stumbling over his words, and Louis couldn’t help but think it was a bit adorable. He also wanted to tell Harry to get to the point already because he was making Louis anxious. “I kinda…thought – thinking – I was just…will you come with me?” Wait: was Harry asking Louis to come with him to Raleigh? He was asking Louis to leave the state with him today?  
“Will I come with you?”  
“Yeah, to Da–” Harry cut himself off and took in a deep, shakey breath, “to Rita’s house…for the funeral and everything because I just – I need someone there…with me. And you said – ”  
“Yes.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yes.” Louis restated. He didn’t even have to debate the answer.  
“You’ll go?”  
“Yeah.” Louis heard Harry pause for a second, as if he were minutely surprised by Louis’ response.  
“Thank you.” He whispered out in a small voice.  
“You know I’d do anything for you, right?”  
“I – yeah…yeah, I know.”  
“Good.” There was a brief moment of silence, and through the static of the phone line, Louis swore he could hear Harry’s mind turning. “So…you gave them a four hour notice?”  
“Yeah. I made the flight at nine o’clock so we can get to the house around eleven.”  
“Oh…right – yeah, sure…umm, so we’re leaving in what?”  
“Nine hours.”  
“Nine?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Wow, that’s…” really fucking soon, “Alright.”  
“Are you sure you can come?”  
“Yeah, it’s fine. I have over thirty vacation days piled up – ”  
“I don’t want you to waste your vacation days on…this.”  
“It’s not wasting the days if it’s time spent with you.” Wait, did he seriously just say that? Did those words just come out of his mouth? Where the hell was his filter?  
“Thanks.” Harry quietly responded. Louis nodded, as if Harry could see him, and coughed in order to clear his throat.  
“How long will we be there?”  
“We’ll come back next Wednesday afternoon.”  
“Okay, that’s…yeah. Alright. What time should I be at the airport?”  
“We’re not going to the main airport, we’re, ummm – I’m taking a taxi and I was thinking I could just pick you up along the way.”  
“So…what time is that?”  
“Eight fifteen.”  
“Okay; I’ll wait outside of my building.”  
“Alright.” Wow. Louis was leaving the state in nine hours to spend a week with Harry. This was definitely not how he envisioned his life going, but he was perfectly fine with it.  
“Have you gotten any sleep yet?” Harry let out a damp chuckle.  
“I’ve barely had time to breathe.”  
“You need to sleep.”  
“I know.”  
“You think you can sleep for a few hours now?”  
“Hopefully.”  
“Well at the least try – ”  
“I will, I will.”  
“Alright, good.”  
“Sorry for waking you up.”  
“No, no, it’s fine.”  
“M’kay, I’ll umm…I’ll see you in a few hours?”  
“Yeah, definitely.”  
“Thanks again…for doing this.”  
“You don’t have to thank me; I want to do this for you.”  
“Well…okay…okay…” Harry still sounded a bit in disbelief that Louis had agreed.  
“I meant it when I said I’m always gonna be here for you.”  
“I know.”  
“Alright.”  
“M’kay…ummm, good night.”  
“Night. Try to get some sleep.”  
“I will.”  
“Okay. See you soon.”  
“See you soon.” 

 

Louis woke up in a panic because he had no idea where the hell his suitcase was, until he realized that it was being used as a piece of furniture in the exercise room. Aside from the situation dictating his absence from the state, Louis was excited to travel, and to travel with Harry nonetheless. Granted, it wasn’t the best reason to go to another state, and more than half of their time there would probably be spent in mourning, but there was something liberating about going to a place where he wasn’t prematurely bound to by any chains. There were no expectations of what he had to be; he could just be…him.  
He had absolutely no idea what to pack, so he ended up folding and stuffing half of his closet into the small suitcase. He waited until 7:40 that morning to text Liam and Zayn telling them why he was unexpectedly taking a week off from work and going to Raleigh; he was a bit worried since they had a presentation next Tuesday and two sites were under construction, but he figured Liam and Zayn could handle the presentation and Liam could answer any questions the contractors had. One of the biggest questions on his mind was ‘Why me? Why isn’t Michael going?’ but he knew that wasn’t a priority to figure out right now; all he knew was that Harry needed him, and he was there for Harry. He would always be there for Harry.  
It was when he’d just finished making coffee that his phone rang, and Louis saw that it was Zayn’s office number. As soon as he picked it up, Zayn commanded him, “Explain yourself.” Immediately after, he heard Liam’s voice ask,  
“When did this happen?”  
“Good morning to you too.” Louis mumbled before calmly taking a sip of his coffee. He probably should’ve planned for this call to happen. A text would’ve been too easy.  
“I need a play by play situation, Tommo.” Zayn forcefully told him.  
“Somebody’s needy this morning.”  
“Just explain.” Louis took another sip of coffee before saying,  
“He was at my place last night and we were having dinner when his stepmom called to tell him…you know, what happened. He kind of freaked out and then left to call everybody and make arrangements. I texted him to tell him that if he ever needed me, I’d be there for him, and then at two am he calls me and asks if I’d go with him to Raleigh. So I said yes.”  
“Jesus, man.” Zayn exhaled, “That’s…you were there when he found out?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Shit; how did he react?”  
“He like – I guess panicked would be the best word.”  
“How’d his Dad die?”  
“Stroke; I’m pretty sure he was in his seventies.” Even when he explained it, it didn’t feel like Mr. Styles was actually dead. It felt like just another story.  
“Are you ready for this?” Liam asked with unease present in each one of his words.  
“Ready for what?”  
“You know, this whole…death-thing.”  
“Can you ever really be ready for the ‘whole death-thing’?” Liam sighed,  
“Lou, Harry called on you for this; he needs somebody to depend on, and he chose you, not Michael…”  
“Trust me, Liam, I realize the circumstances of the situation.”  
“Do you understand the importance of it, though? This isn’t something you can really afford to overlook: his Dad is dead and he needs you.” Louis had no idea how to respond to that,  
“Umm…”  
“Do you see the reliance that Harry has on you?”  
“This isn’t reliance.”  
“It’s reliance.” Zayn stated.  
“It’s just…I’m doing what he needs me to do, and I wanna do this.”  
“Are you trying to prove my point?” Louis rolled his eyes,  
“So what if he needs me? Is that suddenly a crime? Are you not allowed to lean on other people when your Dad dies?”  
“That’s not what I’m saying.”  
“Then what are you saying?”  
“Forget it.” Forget it? When did Liam ever ‘forget it’? “When are you getting back?”  
“Umm, next Thursday.”  
“Do you want to use your family emergency days for this – ”  
“This isn’t my family emergency.”  
“Might as well be.” He heard Zayn mumble at the same time Liam said,  
“You want to use your vacation days?” He decided to disregard Zayn’s comment.  
“That’s what I was planning on.”  
“Okay, I’ll fill that out for you.”  
“Thanks.”  
“When are you leaving?” Zayn asked. Louis lowered his phone to see that it was just past eight.  
“Taxi’s coming in fifteen minutes.”  
“You have everything you need?” Louis rolled his eyes; of course Liam would ask that.  
“Yes, Mom.”  
“You always forget something; do you have – ”  
“He’s a grown man, Liam; he’s fine.” This felt like listening to a pair of over-protective parents. As those two went off on their own side conversation, Louis felt his phone vibrate and saw a text from Harry saying ‘be there in 10’.  
“Hey, I gotta go.”  
“Okay. Good luck; have a good time and a safe flight.” Zayn told him.  
“Thanks.”  
“We’re only a phone call away if you need us.” Liam chimed in.  
“I know.”  
“Seriously, call us if you need anything.”  
“I will.”  
“Let him go, Liam.”  
“Okay, okay. Bye, Lou.”  
“See you next week.”  
“Good luck.” Liam was never going to get off of the phone at this rate.  
“Thanks.”  
“Send Harry our condolences.”  
“Liam, seriously, he has to go.”  
“Calm down! I’m hanging up now!” Liam yelled before the call ended. Louis couldn’t help but love his best friends, no matter how annoying they could be at times.

 

Louis only waited outside for three minutes until the taxi pulled up to his building. Harry got out with Louis’ beanie snugly fit on top of his head. He almost looked like a machine running inside of a human body; his movements were stiff and calculated, his eyes were stuck in a distant haze, his face barely moved except when he forced himself to smile or talk, and he refrained from showing any emotion. Louis remembered how people could look like zombies after pulling an all-nighter in college with skin painted a ghostly white and eyes glazed over, but this was something different. Harry’s skin almost seemed translucent, the green in his eyes descended into the grey scale, and Louis could find no immediate purpose in Harry’s actions. This was different than the day after Harry’s patient died. This was complete numbness and ignorance to the situation. This was an attempt to block out reality. And this certainly wasn’t a good way to cope.  
“Hey.” Louis softly greeted.  
“Hi.” Harry responded, almost like he was forcing himself to. The trunk of the taxi popped open, and Harry grabbed Louis’ suitcase and suit bag and quickly placed it in there while Louis put in his travel bag. “This all you have?”  
“Yeah.” Harry shut the trunk and walked over to the backseat of the taxi, opening the door and motioning with his hand for Louis to get in first. He did as he was requested to, and Harry slid in after him, shutting the door, and then they were off. Harry stayed silent with his hands grasped together, fiddling with his thumbs and looking out of the window at the blur of traffic. Louis could see that Harry was intently zoned out, thinking about the impending week, but he still refused to let himself show any emotions. All Louis wanted to know was what Harry was thinking and how he was actually feeling, but as of right now, it seemed like he would never know. He hated the silence.  
“I’ve always hated city traffic in the morning.” He commented in an awkward attempt to make sure Harry’s voice box still worked.  
“Mhmm.” Harry mumbled. Louis noticed his droopy eyelids.  
“You end up getting any sleep?” He quietly asked. Harry averted his attention from the window to Louis; he tried smiling, but the corners of his lips refused to rise up any higher than a few millimeters.  
“A bit.” The words came out rough and ragged. They pulled something inside of Louis’ stomach, and all he wanted to do was hold on to Harry in some way to let him know that he was there.  
“You can always sleep on the plane.”  
“Yeah.” Harry looked out of the front window. Some instinct took over Louis in that moment, and he put his right hand in the space between the two of them, palm facing up. Harry glanced down at the movement, his eyes physically attached to Louis’ hand. Then, without thinking, Louis asked,  
“Hand?” He didn’t miss the way Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. He didn’t miss the way memory after memory seemed to pass through Harry’s mind. He certainly didn’t miss the way Harry’s eyes lit up, though. Finally, Louis had coaxed some sort of emotion out of Harry and he felt proud of himself; Louis had the ability to break down Harry’s façade. This was definitely a good sign. After a few seconds, Harry’s left hand tentatively made its way down to meet Louis’ hand. This was definitely a better sign. Their fingers gently laced together, and a bit of solitude flew out of the car’s windows. Although Harry carried himself as frozen and rigid, his hand was warm and immediately molded itself into Louis’ clutch. The familiarity of the situation was enough to make up for the lack of conversation.  
They stayed silent for the rest of the ride.  
Louis was okay with that.

 

They rushed through the small customs building since they got there at five of nine. Louis was helped by their two co-pilots to load their luggage onto a cart while Harry checked in. The two pilots were equipped with smiles and small talk, and Louis probably would’ve been more impressed with their polite manners if he weren’t constantly looking over at Harry. When they walked out onto the runway, Louis fought the blasts of wind by keeping his head down while Harry embraced it like an old friend. Their jet was small and white, door open with steps leading up to it. Harry walked on first, and turned around when he was halfway up, holding his hand out to Louis. His movements were fluid and unconscious, and his eyes were gentle and inviting; the sudden change in Harry’s demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by Louis.  
“The stairs are narrow.” Harry clarified, his voice loud enough to be heard above the running engines. Louis looked down at the stairs; they were tall and narrow, but nothing that he was incapable of climbing by himself. He didn’t over think it, though, and instead grasped onto Harry’s hand as he ascended the stairs. Their hands lingered onto each other’s even after they were both securely in the cabin.  
The inside was painted beige with dark wooden trimmings and hosted six plush, tan, leather armchairs. Louis stood in his place; he was a bit overwhelmed by how beautiful it was. It was certainly the nicest form of transportation he’d ever taken in his life. Harry, on the other hand, immediately took off his jacket, slumped down into the first chair on the left side, and then closed his eyes. The beanie was still snugly fit on top of his head. For a moment, Louis almost forgot that Harry must’ve been on jets like this countless times in his life. Then it once again dawned on him the reason that they were here in the first place: Harry’s Dad. With all the times that he and his Dad flew on these planes, this must’ve been filled to the brink with memories. Harry and his Dad probably had a routine that they followed each time they went somewhere, and this was probably the first time Harry wasn’t carrying out that tradition.  
Louis discarded his jacket and took the first seat on the right. On the wall was a small screen, alternating between a map of the country with a red line going from Philadelphia to Raleigh and a screen showing the temperature, altitude, projected arrival time, and ground speed. One of the two pilots came into the cabin and went through protocol, such as seatbelts on until they were cruising in the air, in the event of an emergency use this door, and then Louis tuned out because he looked at Harry intently gazing at the pilot, yet focusing on something far beyond the words.  
Once the pilot went into the cockpit, Harry turned to Louis to say, “When we’re up in the air, I’ll look in the cabinets and see what breakfast they have. Usually they stock the bigger planes with eggs and bagels. I think they’ll at least have bagels on this one.”  
“It’s free?” Harry lightly breathed out a giggle; Louis didn’t care that his lack of knowledge of private jets was the cause of it, he was just happy that Harry still maintained the ability to laugh. Louis made it his goal to show Harry that he could still be happy, even if life was shitty.  
“Yeah. God, I hope they have orange juice. Are you ever just in the mood for orange juice?”  
“If it’s no pulp.”  
“Agreed, although pulp is fine as long as it’s homemade.”  
“You’ve had homemade orange juice?”  
“Yeah, Rita makes it. I’ll ask her if she can make it sometime this week.”  
“Oh – I don’t wanna, like, put anything else on her plate.”  
“It’s okay. She always likes making stuff for other people; she told me last night that she’s just throwing out the dishes people are sending her and making all of her own food for everybody. Besides, the dishes are just like…” Harry’s right hand circled around in the air and his lips clasped shut. ‘A stupid, constant reminder’ Louis wanted to finish for him. They both understood, though, so instead he said,  
“Yeah.” The speed of the engines increased, and the plane began to move forward. Harry once again slumped his head onto the headrest and closed his eyes, but this time he pulled the beanie down to the top of his eyebrows. Louis looked out of the small oval window to watch the plane queue up onto the runway.  
“Taking off has always been my favorite part of the ride.” Harry quietly commented.  
“Why?”  
“It’s kinda exhilarating…I dunno. People shouldn’t be able to fly, yet here we are, soaring to heights birds can’t even dream of. It’s like a modern day miracle.” Louis thought about the idea of a modern day miracle before stating,  
“Miracles happen around us all the time; we just see them too often, so we take them for granted and barely notice.” Harry tilted his head to the side, opened his eyes, and looked at Louis.  
“We barely notice?”  
“At least until they’re gone: then we notice.” Harry’s squinted his eyes and his brows furrowed at that, all while still intently staring at Louis. His eyes were filled with an emptiness that he was putting all of his effort into filling, but he didn’t seem to understand how; his focus fell down from Louis’ face onto the floor, his spirit falling with it.  
“When I was younger…like, until I was twelve, Dad and I…” He slightly smiled to himself, “he would always hold my hand when we took off. I guess…I dunno.” The look on Harry’s face was filled with regretful lament, and Louis hated seeing him like that. It was in that moment that Louis understood Harry didn’t only invite him as someone to lean on during this time, but as someone to help fill the void. And suddenly, even though the weight on Louis’ shoulders got heavier, he himself felt lighter. He held out his hand into the aisle between the two seats, down far enough that Harry didn’t have to look up to notice the action. Harry did seem to notice; he bit his bottom lip and silently reached out for Louis’ hand. When Harry looked up, the bottom of his eyes were coated with a barely noticeable layer of fresh tears that refused to leave the confines of his eyelids.  
Louis squeezed Harry’s hand. 

 

It was nearing noon when the cab arrived at the house; it had a sort of southern beauty to it, with white paint coating the outside of it and pillars with small detailed intricacies chiseled into them that firmly held up the sloping roof above the three floors of the house, so much so that it seemed like they could hold up the heavens. Delicate black steel rails fenced off the house from the street, and the huge yard was lined with trees with budding flowers. Louis briefly noticed a smaller building in the backyard, but his attention was deviated when two small old women walked out of the front door. They were both similar in a stout stature and a circular face shape, but one had short brown hair and the other had white. The one with brown hair briskly walked as fast as she could with her arms outstretched to them. Harry placed his bags on the ground and walked into her arms; he towered over the woman, who Louis had no doubt in his mind was Rita, and she tucked her head into his chest.  
“I’m so glad you’re here.” She told him, voice shaking, and Harry noticeably tightened his grip around her before letting go a minute or so later. She looked at Louis around Harry’s body and gently smiled at him. Her eyes were a weaker blue than Louis remembered. Louis couldn’t help but wonder if she remembered him. As Harry walked forward to hug the white haired woman, Rita walked towards Louis, and for some reason Louis felt like he was about to throw up; fuck, why was he this nervous?  
“Hi.” Louis found himself weakly saying as he awkwardly smiled and waved a hand at her.  
“Louis, right?” Holy shit: did she remember him?  
“Yeah.”  
“Harry told me you’d be coming with him.” Okay, scratch that. Maybe she didn’t remember him. Rita closely surveyed Louis for a moment before saying, “You were a close friend of his?”  
“Yep.”  
“You look a bit familiar…have we met before?” Scratch that again: she did remember him. Well, sort of…but she definitely recognized him.  
“Yeah, actually. When Harry and I were in High School.” Her eyes widened at that.  
“Oh dear, you should’ve reminded me sooner; you were the man Harry’s Dad talked about meeting up with again a month or so ago?” Louis nodded, his stomach twisting at the thought that Harry told his Dad about seeing Louis again, “I do remember you!” Suddenly she closed the space between them and tenderly hugged Louis in a warm, secure way that only a mother can do. Louis stiffly welcomed the hug at first, but she had such a calming ease about her that Louis slackened into the embrace after she whispered, “Thank you for coming.” She rubbed his back and they both let go at the same time. When he looked behind her body, he noticed Harry looking at him with soft eyes that immediately darted down the moment they made eye contact. Rita turned around, “Louis, this is my sister, Alma.” The white haired woman walked forward with a smile very similar to that of Rita’s. “This is Harry’s old friend, Louis; you’ve probably heard Des talk about him before.”  
“I vaguely remember the name being thrown around.” She held out her hand to Louis and he shook it, “Nice to meet you.”  
“Nice to meet you too.” This time when he looked up at Harry, he was biting his bottom lip; Louis wondered why Harry was so nervous. These two women were his stepfamily, and they obviously loved him. Louis, on the other hand, was rightly nervous about being approved by the two and accepted into the household for a week, although the nerves seemed to be dissipating over time.  
“Come on, you two, get your stuff and come inside. I want to get you settled in and catch up before everyone else arrives, and God knows that they will.” Rita said, linking her arm with Alma’s and slowly making their way to the front door. Louis grabbed the handle of his suitcase and waited behind for Harry to gather his bags. He tried picking up Harry’s suit bag, but Harry swatted his hand away.  
“I got it.” Louis knew better than to argue with Harry about something so minimal at this moment in time. When Harry had a hold on everything he just stood there, unmoving and looking at the outside of the house.  
“You okay?” Louis whispered to him. Harry pursed his lips together and nodded. Louis didn’t know what was going through Harry’s mind, but he had a pretty good idea that it had to do with being in this house for the first time without his Dad. He wanted to rub Harry’s back, if only to comfort him for a moment or two, but with the abundance of bags in his hands, he wasn’t physically capable of doing that. They stood there for a few more seconds before Harry inhaled a long breath and walked forward without hesitation. Louis followed him up the small front door steps and into the house.  
The inside of the house itself was extravagantly simple with nothing too flashy filling it up; instead of the glimmer and shine usually found in a mansion of this size, there were old antiques lining the walls, such as paintings from the impressionist movement, red satin curtains lining the huge windows, a grand piano, and a huge grandfather clock next to the grand staircase. The place was cascaded with the largest floor to ceiling windows Louis had ever seen in his life, which let in long glimpses of natural sunlight. It reminded Louis of a greenhouse, except in a grandiose-Parliamentary-building way.  
“Harry, would it be okay if you two took the guesthouse? I was going to put you in one of the guest bedrooms but with Alma, your mother, Robin, and Gemma coming, I figured you wouldn’t mind staying there.” Harry’s mom, Robin and Gemma were coming? Louis stomach flipped; this was literally like meeting Harry’s family all over again. The nerves were definitely back now, especially since at one point in time Louis personally knew Harry’s Mom.  
“Yeah, that’s fine.” She reached into her sweater pocket, pulled out a small silver key, and handed it over to Harry.  
“Here’s the key; don’t lose it.”  
“M’not gonna lose it.”  
“Well on the off-chance that you do, I don’t currently have a spare so you’ll be locked out for quite some time. Louis, keep an eye out on him, alright?”  
“Rita, I won’t lose it – ”  
“What would you like for lunch, honey?” Harry defeatedly sighed,  
“Anything.”  
“Louis, any suggestions?”  
“Oh, uhm – ”  
“I made roast beef this morning; how about that on a sandwich?” Louis nodded,  
“Yeah, that sounds really good.”  
“Great idea, Louis.” Not his idea, but okay. “You two just take your time, get yourselves situated, then come into the kitchen for lunch when you’re ready: alright?” Harry put on his forced smile and nodded.  
“Yeah.”  
“And don’t you rush; I’ll know if you rushed. Louis, make sure he doesn’t rush.” Harry actually lightly chuckled to himself at that and hung his head down in embarrassment. “Promise, Louis?”  
“I promise, Mrs…”  
“You can call me Rita. Now go get settled in.” The two sisters turned around and ventured down the hallway. Harry’s eyes were captivated by the key in his hand; he turned it around and slid it in between his fingers, the light catching glimpses of it and gleaming off in Louis’ direction. He slowly nodded to himself before looking up at Louis and clearing his throat.  
“We, ummm…” Harry paused. Louis couldn’t tell if there was something on his mind or not, so he waited a few seconds. Still, nothing came out, so Louis asked,  
“Guesthouse?” Harry gratefully smiled,  
“Yeah.”  
“Whenever you’re ready.”  
“M’kay, let’s ummm…yeah.” Harry led the way down through a hallway lined with scenic paintings and lit by small crystal chandeliers. They walked until they reached a pane-glass door, which they stepped out of and into the backyard. Immediately to their right was a small, one story guesthouse that was extremely similar looking to a cottage. It was painted the same color of white as the mansion, but it was a bit more weathered down, and had a small wooden porch with two rocking chairs on it and a gray-shingled rooftop. It was surrounded by neatly trimmed bushes and under the shade of an oak tree. Louis felt like he’d stepped into a storybook.  
“Woah.” He found himself whispering underneath his breath.  
“What?” Harry asked, his voice filled with concern.  
“This is like its own little house, isn’t it?”  
“It was actually the original house. The previous owners bought all this land,” Harry spun in a small circle, “and built what’s currently the main house.” Louis nodded in acknowledgment.  
The inside of the house was a simple living room that had matching flower printed armchairs and a couch with a coffee table off to the side. To the right was a breakfast table that separated the living room from a kitchenette with wooden cabinets and an old steel refrigerator. Harry dropped the key onto the coffee table.  
“I hate these flower chairs. I literally have no idea what possessed Dad and Rita to buy them.”  
“Probably the fact that they’d never have to see them.” That got an affirmative chuckle out of Harry.  
“Good point.” Harry let go of his suitcase and dropped his bags onto the couch. “I’ve never actually stayed in here before; I hope it has good insulation.” Louis couldn’t help but laugh a bit at that, because it was only something Harry could be concerned about.  
“You’re worried about the insulation?”  
“I’m not too keen on living in an igloo for the next week.”  
“Point taken.” Louis dropped his bags onto one of the armchairs and followed Harry as he opened a wooden door that led to the master bedroom, although ‘master’ was probably an overstatement; the king bed took up about two fifths of the room, the other three fifths being taken up by a flat screen television that stood on top of a dresser, a miniscule closet, a full body mirror, and a door that led to the bathroom. Harry toed off his shoes, climbed onto the bed, rolled over to the right side of it, and threw his right arm over his face. There was only one bedroom in this little shack to Louis’ understanding, so did that mean –  
“God, I’m tired; I feel like hibernating for a few years.” ‘Fuck it’ Louis told himself before following suit and lying down on the left side of the bed.  
“I’m unaware of any animal that hibernates for more than a few months.”  
“Don’t snails hibernate for a while?” Louis chuckled,  
“I have no idea.”  
“Oh…what about turtles?” Harry seemed genuinely concerned with this.  
“You’re not gonna turn into an animal.”  
“Don’t you think that animals have it easy, though?”  
“They live in constant fear of being eaten.”  
“No, like…they don’t think…or feel, or – or shit like that.” A part of Louis’ heart cracked when Harry said this.  
“Animals have feelings.”  
“Not dumb ones.” Louis propped his head on his elbow,  
“Like a snail?”  
“Yeah.” Harry answered as if it was the easiest question the World had ever been asked. They stayed there in silence for a few moments. Lying on a bed. Together…except, not. This was oddly reminiscent of when they were in Middle School and he slept over Harry’s house every week. Except this time, it wasn’t Harry’s house, they weren’t teenagers, and they’d be sharing the same bed for a week. Well, maybe. Louis should probably get that cleared up,  
“Is this the only bedroom in here?”  
“Mhmm.” Alright, suspicion number one confirmed.  
“So, are we, ummm…”  
“Sharing?” In a way, Louis was grateful that he wasn’t the one to say it; this way it was less of his idea and wouldn’t provoke so many…images in his head. Harry lifted his arm off of his face and looked at Louis like a deer in headlights.  
“Yeah.”  
“Oh, umm…well I just – I mean, I can sleep on the couch if you’re more comfo–”  
“No, no, you’re not sleeping on the couch. I was just wondering, is all, I mean, I’m fine with sharing…well, if you are…then I am.” Where the hell did his ability to play it cool go whenever he was with Harry?  
“I’m fine with it.” Oh. Okay. Well, that was…  
“Cool.”  
“Mhmm.” Louis felt a bit more relaxed since the sleeping arrangement was now sorted out. However, there was a nagging voice in the back of his head that kept repeating ‘you and Harry are sleeping together in the same bed for a week’. Louis shut that voice up and instead tried to focus on the situation at hand, one step at a time.  
“So…how d’you wanna divi up the clothing situation?”  
“What?”  
“Where we put our clothes, who gets what drawer…that sorta thing.”  
“Oh.” Harry chuckled to himself, “Umm, should we even bother? Your clothes are just gonna end up mixed in with mine anyway so…” Wait, what? Did he just – did Harry just imply – “Wait, shit, I didn’t mean – well…I just…sorry.” Harry’s face was a deep shade of ruby like a chameleon trying to blend in with Dorothy’s shoes. It made Louis’ heart skip a beat because Harry still had the ability to get just as flustered as he had when they were teenagers. “Take whichever drawers you want.”  
“Umm, okay.” Louis found himself awkwardly laughing because he honestly had no other idea of how else to react.  
“I need a nap.”  
“Or a hibernation.” Harry flung his arm back over his face.  
“Don’t tempt me.” 

 

If the amount of people that stopped by the house that afternoon was impressive, the amount of food and flowers that were delivered in that same time span was unprecedented. Literally, it was casserole after casserole after bouquet. It was kind of a strange way to measure the love and condolences for the family, but just looking at the mounds upon mounds of items showed Louis just how many people truly cared about Mr. Styles. On the flip side, looking at the mounds upon mounds of items also showed Louis just how dead Mr. Styles was.  
He wasn’t really surprised when Alma recruited him to help “bring the food to the downstairs freezer so it doesn’t go bad”, which actually meant going outside and throwing the food into the trashcans while Rita and Harry talked to the family friends that dropped by with more food and more flowers. The flowers had a similar fate to the food, only because the “scent triggers Rita’s allergies”, so going to put the flowers in a larger vase actually meant throwing them on top of the food in the trashcans. And maybe at the end of the day when the bins were too full to allow anything more in, Louis didn’t feel too guilty about putting a bouquet of roses in a vase and placing them on the coffee table in his and Harry’s little cottage. And if Harry noticed, he certainly didn’t comment on them.  
They didn’t eat dinner until after nine because immediately after the last guest left at seven, Rita decided to make her famous home baked and then fried chicken, green beans, and mashed potatoes. As soon as the last guest was gone, so were the casseroles and the flowers and the I’m-so-sorry-for-your-loss-es. As soon as the last guest was gone, so was any indication that Des Styles was truly gone. The name wasn’t mentioned once after seven o’clock.  
Louis really hoped every day wouldn’t be treated like this one. If only for Rita’s and Harry’s sake.

 

“Shit.” Louis mumbled to himself after discovering that he forgot to pack toothpaste. He hadn’t bothered to unpack his toiletries earlier on in the day; the only thing he and Harry sorted out was who got which drawer. Only now did Louis realize that Liam was right: he would always forget something. Of course Liam was right. He glanced down at the counter to see Harry’s toothpaste lying there in all of its anti-cavity glory. Harry himself was currently lounging on the bed watching some concert, clad in a thin white tee shirt and grey sweatpants, which was…well it was a completely different situation that Louis was trying to ignore for the sake of his and Harry’s sanity…and not creating an awkward situation by getting a boner.  
Toothpaste. Focus on the toothpaste.  
“Haz!”  
“Yeah?”  
“I forgot toothpaste.”  
“Yes, you can use mine.” Harry truly had a knack for reading Louis’ mind.  
“You’re a God!” And as he brushed his teeth with Harry’s toothpaste, he certainly didn’t think about how this was what Harry’s mouth must smell like right now…must taste like right now. This minty, green tea leaf sort of taste.  
God, did Louis like green tea and mints.  
When Louis was finished, he did a once over of his entire body in the mirror. His hair was tousled, his teeth were white and fresh, his body looked pretty decent in the red shirt and black sweatpants he was in, and overall he just looked…good. Well, better than he had in the past week, which was a bit strange because he’d gotten virtually no sleep in the past day, but nonetheless he looked better. It was probably the change in location.  
Louis turned out the light in the bathroom and tried to walk as nonchalantly as possible to the bed. His mind was racing with the idea that he was about to sleep in the same bed with Harry, which was basically sleeping with Harry, just without the whole sex part. And yes, it was extraordinarily unlikely, but if it were the right moment, maybe things would escalate to some form of intimacy. As much as Louis knew it would be better to erase that thought from his head, for his own and basically the entire World’s own good, the idea was as stubborn as an ox and refused to go away, even though he knew that nothing would actually escalate to that degree.  
Harry’s right hand was resting on his chest, fingers mindlessly tapping a beat along to the song that was playing. He’d turned off the lamp on his side of the bed, so the only light was coming from the lamp on Louis’ side and the blue illumination from the TV screen, both creating shadows onto Harry’s face that accented the definitive lines of his jaw. This was the first time the entire day that he looked serene; it looked like there was nothing on his mind besides listening to the music. Louis gently climbed onto the bed to try and not disturb Harry’s peaceful focus. It didn’t work, though, because Harry’s attention was immediately pinned onto Louis.  
“How can you forget toothpaste?” He asked with a challenging smile.  
“Oh please, like you’ve never forgotten toothpaste before.”  
“I haven’t.”  
“Not once in your entire life?”  
“Nope.”  
“Impossible.” Harry shrugged,  
“One of the times I went to Norway, I forgot deodorant.”  
“What? That’s worse than forgetting toothpaste!”  
“Actually, it was cold and half of the people I met there didn’t wear it, so I think I fit in fine. You, on the other hand…” His smile turned into a mischievous smirk, and he seemed to be acutely aware of the snarky phrases he was saying.  
“If you keep this up, I’m going to use the rest of the bottle in one go so neither of us have any and I won’t even feel guilty about it.”  
“You’d probably clog up the sink.”  
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Harry cackled,  
“When and how did you clog up a sink?”  
“There may come a time in your life when the toilet is already being filled with some…substances, and you still have a shit ton more, so the sink is a good alternative.”  
“Louis Tomlinson doing drugs? My ears aren’t believing this.”  
“I did so much shit in college.”  
“With Zayn and Liam?”  
“Usually Zayn and I were the main culprits, but Liam had a go every once in a while; he’s more of a rebel than he lets on.”  
“You corrupted him, didn’t you?”  
“Corrupt is a strong word, Hazza.” Harry giddily chuckled,  
“Niall was definitely my corrupter.”  
“We all have one.”  
“Who was yours?” Louis thought for a moment; sure, there was the obvious of Zayn, who introduced him to pot. But then there was Hannah, who introduced him to sex, and even then there was Greg, who introduced him to better sex…and infidelity. There were a few more people down the line, but they all had little to no influence on him. Who was the one person that introduced him to a World that was once unknown? Who was the one person that changed him the most? Who was the one person who still affected the decisions he made today?  
“Clearly you.” Harry slightly laughed at that, clearly thinking Louis was being sarcastic, as he sunk down deeper into the warmth of the comforter. Louis couldn’t exactly blame him for not believing him, but he was a bit disappointed that Harry didn’t realize the extent of his words for once. When he glanced over at Harry, he saw how far apart they actually were. The gap in between them could easily suit the spatial requirements of a large sumo wrestler. Maybe this was a good thing; now he didn’t have to worry about accidentally spooning Harry with this valley in between them. “Yo-dil-eh-hee-hoo!” He whispered shouted over to Harry, and he turned to Louis, dimples prominently featured.  
“What are you doing?”  
“Yodeling; I needed to make sure you could still hear me across this valley…valley…valley…” He faded his voice out to create a sort of echo. Harry just laughed.  
“That reminds me, knock-knock.”  
“You’re seriously doing a knock-knock joke right now?”  
“Says the man who just yodeled. Knock-knock.” Louis fondly rolled his eyes at this boy…man…Harry.  
“Who’s there?”  
“Little old lady.”  
“Little old lady who?”  
“I didn’t know you could yodel!” Harry laid there in pride, while Louis was trying to comprehend what just happened. He couldn’t believe Harry still did those stupid, pointless, horrible knock-knock jokes. This was insane…but also insanely endearing. Yes, the joke was stupid. Yes, it was on the borderline of being one of the most terrible knock-knock jokes he’d ever heard in his life, but Louis found himself laughing at it not because they were so horrible. He laughed because it was Harry encompassed in a nutshell: lame, adorable, modest, heart-warming, full of effort, and absolutely endearing. Still, after all this time. Louis just guessed Harry would always have that affect on him.  
“Not your best one, but I’ll give it to you.” Harry shrugged.  
“I thought it was pretty good.”  
“I think it would make anyone under six and over sixty laugh.”  
“That’s a large range of people.”  
“Not the people you want, though.”  
“I already have the people I want.” Louis looked over at him; he’d shut his eyes, and his face still had a small smile painted onto it. His chest slowly rose up and down with each breath he took. There were small, fluffy hairs that slid down onto his forehead without hair gel in to hold it back. The TV light lit up his face to a pale blue. He was beautiful.  
“Me too.” Louis softly whispered. They laid there for a few more minutes in silence. Louis shut his eyes, only to think about the man lying next to him.  
“D’you want the TV on still? I think I’m gonna try to sleep.”  
“No, you can turn it off. I’m gonna go to sleep too.”  
“M’kay.” Harry picked up the remote and turned the TV off; the blue glow was gone, and all that was left was the warm yellow light blazing form the lamp. Harry sunk down deep into the covers and pulled them up to his chin as he turned on his side to face Louis with his eyes shut. Louis reached over to the lamp and turned the knob. The room descended into darkness, and for the first time in a long time, Louis was completely at peace. “Night, Louis.”  
“Night, Harry.”

 

Something jagged and rocklike was digging into Louis’ calf.  
Something thin, hard, cold, and uncomfortable.  
It was indiscreetly trying to slither its way underneath of Louis’ calf like it didn’t care that Louis was an actual person who felt actual pain. Louis had absolutely no idea what was going on until he slightly squinted out of his eyes. Through the dark night of the room, he noticed that what once was a valley was now a street block; apparently either he or Harry had moved over a foot because their bodies were only separated by a few inches. And…yep: apparently, that thin, hard, cold, and uncomfortable thing was Harry’s huge bony foot trying to find warmth by burrowing itself underneath of Louis’ calf.  
Maybe if the circumstances were different – like if Louis wasn’t currently relaxed, or if he wasn’t warm and comfortable, or if his muscles didn’t mold around Harry’s foot, or if Harry’s foot wasn’t as cold as the Arctic circle, or if this wasn’t Harry’s foot, or if he wasn’t about to fall back asleep – then he would’ve moved.  
But these circumstances were his life and, well, he was perfectly content with them.

 

When Louis actually woke up in the morning, it was to the sound of running water and a soft, barely audible humming that was echoing off the walls and the door of the bathroom. The sun was softly beating in through the window shades, creating cascades of light throughout the room. Louis rolled over and noticed that he was left to fend for himself on the great valley bed, which meant that it was Harry who was singing in the shower. His deep voice was suspended up in the air, hanging about like stars in the night sky. Louis would’ve sworn that the voice was coming out of golden pipes; it was by far the most angelic sound Louis had ever heard in his life. Louis felt the need to capture Harry’s voice in a music box so he could wake up to it every morning.  
Yep. He was completely content with these circumstances.  
The running water shut off and Harry’s humming got substantially quieter while the ventilation fan got louder. Louis sat up in bed, grabbed his phone, and saw that it was apparently 8:17 in the morning, which was by far the latest Louis had woken up in what felt like months. He decided to check his email while he eagerly waited for Harry to come out of the bathroom.  
One email was from Liam with a daily synopsis of what he missed at work yesterday. Another was from Zayn, titled ‘some advice’, with a link attached to it and text below it saying ‘in other news, hope all is going well’. Louis wasn’t sure what real hope he had of this being a legitimate source of advice considering all the times Zayn had sent him some link to a disturbing article about poisonous animals in Australia, a video of a guy getting hit in the balls, a new Batman parody video, some newly discovered species of fish, or a video comparing porn to reality using fruits. He hesitantly clicked on the link, and what loaded on his phone was none other than a picture titled ‘Gay Gummy Bears’ with eight pictures of gummy bears in various sex positions.  
Fucking typical.  
The bathroom door slowly creaked open and Louis hit the lock button and looked up like a reflex. Harry walked out with wide, startled eyes that immediately attached to Louis’. He had floppy wet hair and was dressed in that thin white shirt, a towel draped over his shoulders, and black boxer briefs. No pants. Just boxer briefs. Boxer briefs that barely ended a quarter of the way down his thighs. Boxer briefs that hugged his thighs like that was their sole purpose in this World, and oh dear God, why were the gummy bear pictures flashing through his brain?  
“Oh, umm, hi.” Harry stood frozen in his spot and Louis didn’t dare to move; there was no way he was getting out of this situation without getting a boner. Fuck.  
“Morning.”  
“Sorry, did I wake you up?”  
“No, I just woke up a few minutes ago.” Shit: his breath probably smelled horrible right now. Although, considering the amount of blood flow that was now directed downwards in his body, his breath should probably be the least of his worries.  
“Oh, okay…umm, how’d you sleep?”  
“Good.” Harry stiffly nodded.  
“Good.” Louis hated awkward morning conversations. Harry grabbed the towel and it moved with his hands as he clasped them together in front of his underwear. Alright: this was sufficiently awkward for everyone now.  
“Was the insulation okay for you?” Harry shrugged and his clasp on the towel got noticeably tighter.  
“It was kinda cold.”  
“Not up to the Styles standard?” A small smile tugged on Harry’s lips,  
“The Styles standard?”  
“It’s the Universal measurement system for insulation.”  
“I swear, sometimes I forget that you’re being sarcastic; you could probably convince someone that dodo birds still exist.”  
“But…they do. I own one.”  
“Really?” Harry condescendingly asked with a smirk. Louis nodded. “What’s its name?”  
“Kevin.”  
“Kevin the dodo bird?”  
“You’re saying it like you don’t believe me.”  
“I’ve been to your place multiple times now and I’ve yet to see a dodo bird.”  
“Kevin’s shy.”  
“Of course he is.” Louis crossed his arms over his chest and prayed to some greater being that his bulge wasn’t showing through the comforter. It probably wasn’t, but he was paranoid nonetheless. “Umm, Rita said breakfast would be made by eight thirty, so we can go over there whenever you want.”  
“Okay, I just need to…” he waved a hand in front of his face, “do this first.”  
“Oh, I’m done in the bathroom, you can have it.”  
“Okay, thanks.” Louis quickly adjusted his pants under the covers by moving his waist around to try and assure that his…situation, wouldn’t be so noticeable when he stood up. The brief friction only caused soft, teasing pressure, though, which just made this situation ten times worse. He all but jumped out of the bed and ran to the bathroom, never once making eye contact with Harry. He attempted not to slam the bathroom door in his haste, but by the booming click, he assumed that he didn’t do such a good job at that.  
Louis didn’t dare look into the mirror. Instead, he stood with his back to the counter and squeezed his eyes shut.  
‘Okay,’ He told himself, ‘think of dead puppies. Mom and Dad having sex. That one time Lottie knocked on my bedroom door when I was about to jack off. Playing with Abby. Getting buried in snow. Dead puppies. Parents having sex. Lottie almost walking in on me. Abby. Hypothermia. Dead puppies. Parents having sex. Lottie almost walking in on me. Abby. Hypothermia.’ Miraculously, his boner was no longer a boner. The blood was once again travelling through all parts of his body equally. Thank Jesus.  
Yeah, he was never going to mention this incident to anyone. Ever.

 

“Have you ever been down South before, Louis?” Rita asked. Louis was in the middle of taking a huge gulp of her homemade orange juice; it was by far the best orange juice he’d ever drank in his life. Even if it did have pulp in it.  
“Does Walt Disney World count?”  
“You were, like, twelve.” Harry casually said, mouth full of Belgium waffle. Louis was surprised, to say the least.  
“How’d you remember that?”  
“It was one of your redeeming qualities in seventh grade.”  
“That I’d been to Disney World? That’s why you wanted to be my friend?” Harry chuckled,  
“Seventh graders are easily amused.” Louis stared at Harry, mouth agape. “Don’t look at me like that.”  
“I will look at you like this.”  
“You always had, like, a cool story to tell.”  
“You became my best friend so that I’d bring you to Disney World one day.” This got an actual, full-hearted laugh out of Harry. Louis felt accomplished.  
“Stop twisting my words!”  
“So you don’t deny it?”  
“Disney World doesn’t count as the South!” Louis shrugged,  
“Some people don’t even consider North Carolina to be apart of the South.”  
“It was in the Confederacy, though.”  
“That doesn’t automatically label it as a Southern state.” Harry sighed,  
“Why does everything need a label, anyway? I mean, why can’t things just…be who they are?”  
“Because of all the other states who force it to choose one side.” Louis responded. Harry huffed out an exasperated breath before Rita intervened,  
“I’ve found it easier to not think about it.” The four of them ate in silence for a few moments before Louis decided to spur a new conversation.  
“Why’d you decide to retire here?” Rita smiled to herself.  
“It was Des’ idea, mainly. He always wanted to live somewhere sunny and warm. He really didn’t like living in Norway for so long.”  
“I think living there might’ve scarred him for life.” Harry said; he directed his smile down to his plate of waffles and stirred his fork around in the syrup. He avoided making eye contact with anyone. “When he’d come home for Christmas, he’d always say how warm it was, even if it was snowing.” That was when the phone began to yell its high-pitched shout, reverberating throughout the entire house. Rita deeply sighed as she began to rise out of her chair,  
“That would be the insurance agency.”  
“I’ll get it.”  
“Har – ”  
“I got it.” Harry immediately jumped out of his seat and walked out of the dining room, presumably to the office. The phone stopped ringing a few seconds later. Rita sat back down in her chair and shook her head; this was the first time Louis actually saw her get visibly upset. He felt like it wasn’t something he was supposed to being seeing, though, so he focused his attention on the waffles on his plate.  
“He’s just like his father; he’ll barely let me touch a thing.”  
“Let him do what he needs to do.” Alma calmly told Rita.  
“I know, I know, it’s just…well, Louis, you’re the closest one to him here.” Louis’ head shot up. “Has he said anything to you?” He swallowed the piece of waffle in his mouth,  
“I mean…not really.”  
“He’ll work things out in his own time, Rita. He’s a strong man, just like Des, and he has Louis. Isn’t that right, Louis?” Alma captured his gaze for a second and winked at him. Okay, that was a bit strange. He knew better than to say anything except agreeing with Alma, though.  
“Yeah.”

 

In the late morning when Harry and Rita went to the funeral parlor to go over arrangements with the director, Louis stayed at the house with Alma. The weather was in the mid-fifties and the sun was prominently featured in the sky, so she suggested that they take a stroll around the neighborhood to get some fresh air.  
“What if somebody stops by the house?” He asked.  
“Then they’re carrying out the meaning of that phrase.” Louis appreciated her witty outlook on life.  
Alma bundled herself up in a dark, worn down, sapphire blue coat that was a size too big for her figure and linked arms with Louis because she didn’t like using her cane. Louis didn’t mind that she was leaning the majority of her body weight on him; in fact, it made him feel useful and appreciated. She was easily a head shorter than him, smiled and said hello to everyone that they passed, and held herself with the confidence of a prophet. Louis felt surprisingly relaxed walking at her pace. It felt like walking with his own grandmother when he was five. Although he was almost thirty years older now, he felt like the little boy he once was in her presence, only hoping to please and impress her.  
She inquired him about the basic facts of his life, his family, his education, and his business, which he was more than happy to answer. Then she asked about Harry.  
“You met Harry in primary school?” Louis knew that she would bring him up at some point; apparently now was that time. He nodded,  
“Yeah. We didn’t really start becoming friends until later on, but I knew him for years.”  
“You two were close?” ‘More like inseparable’ Louis thought.  
“Yeah.”  
“You’re one of the lucky ones who knows him inside and out, then.” He didn’t know why, but he could feel himself tense up at that, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Alma; she looked up at him with curious blue eyes and patted his arm like an owner who reassuringly patted their dog during a thunderstorm.  
“I guess so.” They walked in silence for a few moments. Louis noticed the way she paid meticulous attention to every flower petal, leaf stem, and rough pebble. Then she spoke up again,  
“Between you and me, how’s he really doing?” Louis wasn’t one to just hand out information about Harry, but he was worried about him right now. Although he would usually consult Liam and Zayn about this sort of thing, Alma seemed like someone he could trust. He needed to talk to somebody. Alma personally cared about Harry as well, and she said that this was just between the two of them…so Louis told her the truth.  
“He’s…he’s okay. He hasn’t really been saying much about his Dad, just brief comments here and there.” Alma nodded and patted Louis’ arm once again,  
“I can tell you’re concerned about him. I’m sure you know that different people have different ways of coping, but I will tell you that my sister and Harry are very similar in this process; they both feel the need to be strong and not display how they really feel. Whereas my sister cooks to…clear her mind, Harry closes himself off. I have noticed that Harry has gotten a bit better today, but like my sister, he’s having trouble confronting the situation. Rita wouldn’t dream of showing you or Harry how she actually feels, but I will tell you that she’s been sleeping in the guest bedroom with me for the past two nights; I doubt that will change any time soon. She has yet to even glance at Des’ belongings or any pictures of him…has she appeared a bit emotionless to you? You can be honest with me.” Louis thought back on it; the only time he saw some sort of sympathy come out of her was when he and Harry arrived and when Harry answered the phone this morning. Besides that, he couldn’t really pin down a moment when she let herself be vulnerable in front of him or Harry.  
“I mean…a bit, yeah.”  
“Well, not a day has gone by that she hasn’t cried. She waits until you and Harry are out of earshot.” Louis stomach dropped; shit, now he felt guilty.  
“I…I didn’t know.”  
“I know, dear, don’t feel bad. What I’m trying to tell you is that you shouldn’t believe their masks. It’s hard to keep your head up and your heart strong at the same time. The grieving process is long, complicated, and difficult. You and me…we’re not here to put the pieces back into place for them; we’re here to help them pick up the pieces so that they can then decide what they want to do with them. Do you understand that?” Louis nodded,  
“Yeah.”  
“The truth is the most difficult part about this process, and it’ll take time to get there, but when it comes, all you have to do is be there for him. And I can see that you’ll always be there for him.” Louis chuckled to himself. He couldn’t really believe that he was receiving life advice from Harry’s stepmom’s sister who was a solid fifty years older than him. On the other hand, Louis knew that Alma knew he needed this advice, and he was grateful for it.  
“You always know the right thing to say, don’t you?” Alma shook her head,  
“Wisdom can be a curse sometimes, Louis.”  
“What d’you mean?”  
“The only reason I know this much is because I’ve lost many of my loved ones.” Shit. Now he felt guilty again.  
“I’m sorry.” Alma shook her head,  
“There’s no need for you to be sorry, dear.” Louis was a bit curious, and Alma seemed like she would tell him anything he wanted to know, so he only felt comfortable when he asked,  
“Do you mind if I ask who?”  
“Of course not. My only son, Stephen, died fighting in Vietnam almost forty-five years ago, and my husband, Charles, died nine years ago of pancreatic cancer.” Yeah, he probably shouldn’t have asked.  
“I’m…I’m so sorry…I can’t imagine that happening to anyone.”  
“I don’t want you to imagine it; there’s no need to do that to yourself. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about them, but I’ve learned to appreciate the things that I once took for granted, like a day as beautiful as this.” Alma pointed up to the sky. “I know that one day I’ll be with them again, but until that time comes, I focus on the little things in life. You see, Louis, you’ll always find your way back to the ones you love. Always.”

 

When Harry and Rita came back from the funeral parlor, Louis noticed that Harry had once again regressed into his shell. His movements were exactly as they’d been yesterday morning: everything he did was stiff and calculated, his eyes were stuck in a distant haze, his face barely moved except when he forced himself to smile or talk, and he refrained from showing any emotion. He was trying to numb himself to the situation, and Louis was getting extremely concerned. The uneasiness must’ve been written in sharpie on his forehead because when Harry was on the phone with one of his Dad’s previous coworkers, Alma told him, “Be patient with him. He’ll figure it out soon enough.”  
It was around seven that night when Gemma texted Harry saying they’d just landed and would be at the house soon. Rita and Alma were in the kitchen as they finished preparing the pot roast, cornbread, and salad for dinner. To Louis’ knowledge, ‘leftovers’ was a word that had no meaning in this household; it was simply a thing that fed the raccoons at night. Harry and Louis set the dining room table and then waited in the main room for the gate bell to ring. Louis sat down on the piano bench and Harry sat next to him, playing some game on his phone. Louis’ fingers pressed down on one of the keys, and the note echoed throughout the room. Then he pressed down on more keys until he somehow managed to play a few decent sounding chords. Harry looked up at him.  
“What song are you playing?”  
“Umm…my mind.” Harry’s eyebrows creased together,  
“What?” Louis had to bite down his smile; Harry’s confusion was a bit too endearing.  
“This isn’t a real song.”  
“Oh.” Louis continued to press down on the keys; he felt Harry’s eyes carefully studying his hand movements. That just put pressure on him to play well, and he accidentally pressed a key that messed up his chord. He took his fingers off of the keys and looked at Harry, who just shrugged at him and said, “I can play chopsticks.” Louis lifted his hands up to his sides, palms facing towards Harry.  
“Woah: somebody needs to get you to Carnegie Hall right now.” Harry chuckled and slung his head downwards. “Oh my God, is that – is that a smile I see?” Harry fully placed his head into his lap now and Louis could hear the muffled laughter. The part of Louis that was concerned with Harry’s well-being was ecstatic that he’d brought this emotion out of Harry. But then there was the selfish part of Louis that only wanted to see Harry’s smile so he could take a picture of it in his mind and keep it there forever. Louis unthinkingly cupped his hands on either side of Harry’s cheeks and pulled his head out of his lap. “Oh my God, it is.” Louis’ eyes locked onto Harry’s and shit, how had he forgotten how amazing his eyes were? The area surrounding his pupil was a hazel green, outside of that the color was a jadeish emerald, and the boundary of his irises was a deep blue. Although the smile on Harry’s face asked a sarcastic ‘really?’ the look in Harry’s eyes pleading asked Louis ‘don’t stop looking at me’. Louis didn’t look away; he was physically unable to. Harry was beautiful. Everything about him transfixed Louis. The World didn’t matter for that moment; time didn’t exist. It was just Louis and Harry, Harry and Louis. Just like it’d always been. Harry was perfect in every single way and maybe – maybe this wasn’t how Louis had imagined it, but if he just leaned in a few inches he could –  
Bling-aling-aling-aling-dil-ling!  
The gate bell screamed. Harry’s eyes were suddenly caught in shock, pulled in between the sudden noise and the realization of what was happening. Shit, Harry didn’t mean for that to happen, did he? It was instinct for Louis to put his hands on Harry’s face and it was instinct for Harry to give into the touch. They didn’t think about it, it just…happened. He intentionally broke his gaze from Louis’, pulled himself out of Louis’ hands, leaped up from the bench, and practically ran to the phone on the wall, pressing a few buttons until the ringing stopped.  
Wow. Either Louis was seriously misinterpreting things, or Harry really had no clue what he was doing.  
“They’re here!” Harry called to Rita and Alma. He opened the main door, and Louis took a second to compose himself from what had just happened before getting up and walking outside with Harry. They stood next to each other on the top stair, watching the taxi pull into the driveway. Rita and Alma joined them, with Alma quickly patting Louis’ back and giving him a look that said ‘get ready’.  
Louis didn’t exactly know when his body had created its own agenda, but suddenly his legs felt numb, his stomach was on a constant looping rollercoaster, and his blood cells pounded on his veins. Even his palms decided that this was a great time for them to sweat like they were in a sauna. Okay, apparently he was nervous as fuck. But Harry’s Mom personally knew Louis at one point in the past. He was there the night she stumbled into Harry’s house with Robin when she didn’t know how to be a Mom to Harry. He’d talked to her on the phone when she lived in Long Beach Island and was a new Mom to Gemma. Shit, Gemma: this was the first time Louis was actually meeting her. What if she didn’t like him? What if Harry’s Mom and Robin didn’t like him?  
Shit, was it too late to run away?  
Yes, it definitely was because Harry was walking down the steps to the opening cab door. The first person to walk out was Harry’s Mom; she was a few inches shorter than him and her long, wavy, dark brown hair loosely hung over her shoulders. It was clear whom Harry had gotten his tall, lean frame from. She immediately engulphed Harry into a hug, and Louis heard her murmur “Oh, honey” as he buried his face into her neck and she kissed his hair. Seeing the two of them hold on so tightly to each other physically hurt Louis’ chest; she was the only living blood-parent Harry had left.  
The next to step out was Gemma, who looked…well, older than he imagined. Granted, the most recent picture he’d seen of her was when she was four, so of course she was going to look older, but she looked taller and more like a young woman than he expected a sixteen-year-old girl to look. Her features were remarkably similar to her Mom’s; they both had the same thin dark-brown eyebrows, the same triangle shaped cheekbones, and the exact same hair color, although Gemma had straight hair with side bangs. Last out was Robin, who was a plump man with whitened brown hair, a gray mustache, round glasses, and was about the same height as Harry’s Mom.  
Louis was surrounded by Harry’s family.  
Harry’s family.  
Louis didn’t notice that Rita and Alma were walking down to the cab until Alma turned around and said, “Louis, come and lend me your arm.” Louis snapped out of whatever trance he was in and held out his arm for her. She linked onto it as they slowly walked down the steps to meet them all. Harry’s Mom was now hugging Alma, Robin was paying the driver, and Harry lifted Gemma up off of the ground while she flailed around in his arms and he laughed.  
“Put me down!”  
“I missed you too!”  
“You beanstalk! Put me down!”  
“I know you missed me.”  
“I miss the ground; let me go!” Harry gently placed her on the ground and looked down at her with a smile. She smiled back up at him, but it was the smile that Lottie constantly used to give Louis that asked ‘what is wrong with you?’ as she crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side. Harry actually had a sister now. Well, half-sister. But still, he had a sister.  
“Did you get taller?”  
“Like a quarter of an inch.” Harry snapped his fingers and pointed at her.  
“I knew something was different.”  
“Louis?” A woman’s voice called. Louis turned his head over to the voice; it wasn’t Alma’s because she was looking at Harry’s Mom.  
Harry’s Mom.  
Wait, did Harry’s Mom just call out his name?  
“Louis Tomlinson?” Her eyes were wide in astonishment. It was Harry’s Mom. Louis stood there in disbelief: she remembered him. Harry’s Mom remembered him. Holy shit this was – this was incredible. And also incredibly relieving. A tiny part of his mind was leaping with joy and – ouch: Louis felt an elbow go into his side. He looked down to see that Alma nudged him. She raised her eyebrows at him and tilted her head towards Harry’s Mom. Right, he was staring. He needed to talk. He cleared his throat,  
“Hi.” Harry’s Mom put her right hand over her heart, smiled, and walked over to him. Alma dislinked their arms as Harry’s Mom put her hands on both of his biceps. She had tears on the brims of her eyelids.  
“You’ve gotten so big…so old – oh Louis, you’re so handsome, c’mere.” She pulled him into her arms, and although he never knew her that personally, he easily let himself fall into the familiar hug. “The last time I saw you, you were – you were a teenager, and now you’re a grown, handsome man.” She said into his ear. Then she backed up so she could look at him in the eyes, “Oh, Louis.” And then she turned to Harry’s direction, mood completely changing from joyfulness to annoyance. “Harry Edward, why didn’t you tell me that Louis was going to be here?” He pulled his bottom lip out of his teeth and looked at her with wide eyes,  
“Sorry?” Harry looked like a little boy being scolded by his mother…which, in a way, he was; he just wasn’t an actual little boy anymore.  
“You should be. Robin! Louis’ here!” She called to him.  
“Who?” Louis saw Gemma shake her head and put a hand to her face.  
“Louis! Harry’s friend from High School!”  
“Tomlinson?” Holy shit: even Robin remembered him.  
“Yes!” His head popped out from the trunk as he pulled out the last piece of luggage. His huge dark brown eyes searched the crowd from underneath those glasses until they found Louis’.  
“Would you look at that: Louis Tomlinson.” Robin walked over to him and held out his hand for Louis to shake. His grip wasn’t nearly as tight as Louis remembered Harry’s Dad’s being, but it had the same sort of father-like authority to it. “How’ve you been?”  
“I’ve been good.” He could feel himself smiling so hugely that it hurt his cheeks.  
“Gemma, c’mere!” Harry’s Mom waved for Gemma to come over. This time it was Harry who was shaking his head and putting a hand to his face. Louis laughed at how much of a…a family they were being. Harry had a real family.  
Not that he didn’t ever have a family; it was just that now…now he had this.  
He had the family that he’d always wanted.  
“Gemma, this is Louis, Harry’s old friend from school.” Gemma had a thin-lipped, closed mouthed smile as she waved a hand to Louis. God, she reminded him of Lottie so much.  
“Hi.” Louis said with a smile.  
“Hello.” She had a soft, high-pitched voice.  
“Harry, Louis, give me a hand with these bags.” Robin called out as he stood next to the three small suitcases. The two of them walked over, both grabbing a bag as the rest of them began to walk inside. “I have yet to figure out why women need to pack so much; did you know that they pack a bag within their bag for makeup?” He quietly told them. He shook his head, “Women.” Robin made his way up the stairs and inside the house with the suitcase dragging behind him. Harry slowly followed him with Louis at his side.  
“I might’ve forgotten to mention to my Mom that you were gonna be here…sorry.” He quietly informed Louis.  
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Harry bit his bottom lip and looked down at the ground. “You okay?” Louis asked him. Harry looked up with that same closed mouthed smile as Gemma and nodded, although it was quite clear that unlike Gemma, Harry wasn’t okay.

 

“I just – I can not believe the way you two ran into each other again. It’s miraculous, isn’t it?” Harry’s Mom said. The circle table allowed for every comment to be directed towards everyone, which Louis wasn’t sure if he was grateful for or not yet. Louis sat with Harry on his right, who sat next to Gemma, then Robin, then Harry’s Mom, then Rita, and finally Alma.  
“Yes it is.” Alma answered right as Louis opened his mouth.  
“You know, when I think of you back then, I picture a boy with a cute fringe – ”  
“Oh no.” Louis muttered.  
“No, no, it was cute. Harry would always say how much – ”  
“Mom.” Harry sternly cut in.  
“ – he – what?”  
“Can we just…chill out with the stories?”  
“You’re asking her to stop talking, Harry.” Robin sarcastically told him.  
“Harry, I haven’t seen this boy in sixteen years and you clearly forgot to mention that he was going to be here – ”  
“It never came up!”  
“ – so I’ll say what I want to say.”  
“Give up while you’re behind.” Gemma told him. Harry turned to her and stuck his tongue out; Gemma just rolled her eyes in response and tried to stifle her giggle.  
“Anyway, you know I’d always tell him that one day – ” While this was happening, Louis heard Gemma whisper to Harry,  
“So…” And although he was technically talking to Harry’s Mom, he completely tuned in his right ear to hear the conversation between Harry and Gemma.  
“So…”  
“I thought you were dating that other guy.” She said underneath her breath.  
“I am.”  
“Mmm, then that’s why he's here and your boyfriend isn’t?”  
“I just – he just is, okay?”  
“The amount of bullshit you’re throwing out right now – ”  
“Gemma! Language!” Robin yelled at her. All eyes focused in on Gemma and her face turned beet red, just like Harry’s would, as she sunk down a bit in her chair.  
“Sorry.” Robin went on to have a conversation with Rita, and Harry’s Mom and Alma continued to have the same conversation with Louis, although at this point he was pretending to listen while fully paying attention to Harry and Gemma’s side conversation.  
“Your b-s level right now is astronomical.” She quickly rushed out.  
“Life is astronomical.”  
“Shut up.”  
“Not until you shut up.”  
“You know, Louis?” Harry’s Mom asked. Louis’ head shot up towards her.  
“Umm, yeah.”  
“This food is amazing, Aunt Rita.”  
“Oh, thank you, Gemma.” Louis wasn’t sure if he might not have been hearing at the right voice decibel, but Rita’s voice sounded weak and listless. “How’s school?” Harry leaned over to Louis, mouth basically pressed to Louis’ ear, and whispered,  
“Ignore every and anything my mother tells you.” Louis chuckled as Harry backed away, drawing Alma’s curious eyes towards him. She said nothing, although her eyes were processing a million words, and Louis was about to ask what she was thinking when Harry’s leg brushed against his. And it didn’t move. Harry made no attempt to move his leg from where it was pressed up against Louis’.  
Louis pretty much lost all train of thought and the ability to focus on anything else after that.

 

Louis went back to his and Harry’s little cottage early that night. He figured that he could take a shower, and this would give Harry some needed alone time to catch up with his Mom, Robin, and Gemma. After he finished showering, Louis relaxed in bed, going in between watching some horribly written movie and reading BBC news articles on his phone while drinking the cup of tea he made. The mug he found in the cabinets had a beach scene painted on it with seagulls flying over the horizon, which he found slightly amusing. He put another mug out on the counter for Harry in case he wanted tea when he got in.  
It was nearing 10:30 when he heard the front door open. He’d turned off the television by this point since the movie was beyond redemption, and was struggling to stay awake, eyelids drifting downwards as the words on his phone blurred together. Hearing the gradually increasing sound of footsteps creaking on the wooden floor alerted his senses; he felt his entire face perk up and his eyes regain some life when Harry’s figure walked through the doorframe. Harry, however, was clearly not in the same mood. Louis only caught a quick glimpse of Harry’s face before he rapidly turned around, back facing Louis, closed the door, and softly walked to the dresser. He said nothing.  
“Hey.” Louis spoke out.  
No response.  
“Umm…want a – do you want a cup of tea?”  
Harry slowly shook his head back and forth, his unruly hair curls shaking with it, as his legs nearly gave out on him while he walked. It was like watching a newborn foal walk for the first time. However, it wasn’t like fawning over the foal; it was like flinching every time it took a step out of the fear that it was about to fall down, while simultaneously wanting to help it stay up. Harry got to the dresser when his legs gave out and he kneeled on the ground, placing a hand on the drawer. Louis saw the muscles in his back tense up underneath his shirt. He didn’t move.  
“You sure?” Louis slowly asked with caution.  
Harry let his head fall forward.  
The only sound in the room was their breathing.  
Until Harry started sniffling.  
Then whimpering.  
As soon as he heard it, Louis jumped out of bed and rushed over to Harry like an instinctive reflex. He kneeled down beside him and put his hand securely on Harry’s back, gently rubbing up and down. “Hey…Harry?” Louis couldn’t see his face from where it was hidden behind his hair. “Harry…? Can you look at me?” Harry shook his head back and forth as he brought up a hand to his face and rubbed his eyes with the palm of it. His sniffling increased. “Haz…please look at me?” Harry reluctantly turned his head to the left, and Louis saw it. Harry’s eyes were glassy, a new coat of tears forming on them; they were about to overflow the dam of his eyelids and there was absolutely nothing neither he nor Louis could do at this point except let it happen.  
Maybe it was strange to think, but Louis thought Harry looked absolutely breath taking when he cried. Every beautiful thing about Harry was on display: the way his emotions were pouring out of him, the way that the red of his sclera made his normally green irises turn into a horizon of never ending shades of blue, teal, and green, and the way he was letting himself be so defenseless. All of his walls came crashing down, and it was only for Louis to see. It was just Harry and Louis. All barriers were destroyed.  
“He’s gone.” Harry stuttered out in a damp voice. “He’s…he’s actually…” A single tear fell down from his eye and trailed down his cheek. “Gone.” Harry’s voice broke, and a stream of tear after tear rushed down his face. Louis lurched forward and firmly clasped his arms around Harry, securing him in the most sheltered and tight embrace he’d ever held anyone in. Harry immediately gave into it, letting his head fall onto Louis' chest, uncontrollably sobbing, and shrinking down to the size of the vulnerable five-year old boy Louis met almost thirty years ago. Louis felt his shirt becoming soaked with the stain of a flood, but he didn’t care.  
He had Harry secure in his arms, and that was all that mattered right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It should be noted that I'm leaving the country for a week at the end of the month, so if you leave a comment in that week and I don't respond, it's not because I'm neglecting you, it's because I don't have an internet connection. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the update and the direction the story is headed in!!!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a long time coming. Like, almost 6 months. Wow.
> 
> I don't know where to really begin, so I guess I'll begin with thank you. Thank you all so much for your patience and continual support. A lot has happened over these past few months in my life, and it was necessary for me to put writing on the back-back burner. In fact, I actually changed this chapter completely from what it was originally after a suicide of a friend of mine. I guess that put a lot in retrospect for me, and I knew going into this that the whole 'death' topic would be hard to accurately portray, but I didn't know just how hard until it came to writing it. I've found that death is hardly ever realistically portrayed in fan-fiction, so I wanted to do it some justice and actually go through the grieving process, if that makes sense. I still don't think I did as good of a job as the topic deserves, but I gave it my best.
> 
> Anyway, this is hands down the longest chapter yet and has some of the most vital events happening in it. It's kind of bitter-sweet for me to post this, because that means there are only two chapters left and this is really laying down the ground work for the ending.
> 
> Going off of that note, to my long-time-long-suffering-readers: you're amazing. I really do write for you because through your support, you've inspired me to be the best author I can be. So thank you. For everything. To my new-readers: hello!!! You're about to join the club of the long-time-long-suffering-readers, but I promise I won't make you wait 6 months for an update like I did to them (sorry about that).
> 
> The last two chapters will probably be about this long in length, and I'm hoping to get the next one up in a little bit over a month (no promises there, though, except I won't make you wait over three months. I'm officially setting a deadline of unacceptable times to post hahah).
> 
> I really hope you all enjoy this chapter, and I'd love to hear comments! You all are the best readers I could ever dream of, and you make me Strong :)
> 
> Enjoy!

For as long as he can remember, Louis’ had an overly active imagination. Whether it was planning out what he and the other kids would do once they dug their way to China through the sandbox, or improvising to make a snow seal when the head of the snowman he and Lottie were making fell off, or when designing buildings with Liam and Zayn, his mind was always filled with some sort of crazy idea. For him, it’d always been as natural and intuitive as breathing: he couldn’t help it. The fantasies in his mind were a staple in his life.  
More often than not, Harry was a permanent resident in that World.  
Ever since their High School graduation, Louis’ mind went into overdrive with various situations where he would be with Harry again. Sometimes when he was driving, he’d see Harry in the passenger seat and put his hand on the gearshift, imagining that it was Harry’s hand he was holding. Maybe it was when he was walking somewhere and imagined Harry walking beside him, laughing and telling a story. Other times, it was just sitting down on the couch and having someone to lean on and talk about his day with. The most prominent times, though, were when he laid in bed at night, imagining himself holding onto Harry. At one point, he started sleeping with an extra pillow to hold onto, forcefully trying to morph it into Harry’s body so he wouldn’t be so…alone.  
No matter how many times he imagined it, though, nothing could’ve prepared him for the real thing.  
He remembers moving onto the bed and sitting up with Harry tucked into his side last night, soothingly running his hand up and down Harry’s arm. He remembers the whimpering dying down and Harry’s head slowly lolling onto his shoulder. They both must’ve drifted off at some point and were now in a similar, yet completely different position.  
He was lying down now, all of his muscles completely at rest. His body was warm and blood was pumping through his veins at a tranquilly calm pace, but something felt…off. The middle of his body and his neck were astronomically warmer than the rest of his body. Which was weird. His touch senses were the first to be awakened, and the hairs on his neck rose up as he felt soft, warm puffs of air being pushed onto them. He dared to turn his head slightly and open his eyes and…this couldn’t be real life. There was no way. He must still be dreaming.  
Louis immediately forced his eyes shut for three…two…one…open.  
And everything was still there.  
This wasn’t his imagination: this was reality. He was actually awake.  
Harry’s head was tucked into the side of Louis’ neck. His lips were slightly parted and, yeah: those warm puffs of air making all of his neck hairs stand alert were Harry’s breaths.  
Holy shit.  
Focusing on Harry’s breathing made Louis focus on his own breaths, which were quickly speeding up, and there was definitely some weight on top of his stomach. He averted his gaze down to see Harry’s arm securely wrapped around his own torso and shit: his own hand…he was holding onto something. Wait, not just something – Louis was holding onto Harry’s arm.  
This was seriously happening. This wasn’t a dream. This was real life.  
This was what he’d been waiting for. All those years of dreaming and wishing and imagining – they’d all been about this and now here it was and it was so much better than anything his mind could even fathom. It wasn’t empty like it was in his head; this physically solid, warm, heat radiating, life-emitting thing was Harry’s body. It wasn’t a meaningless promise or desire like it had been in his mind. This was the tangible sense of touch, this was really being here, this was actually feeling, it was just…Harry. It was Harry. This was Harry – no, it – it was better than that.  
This was Harry and Louis. This was Louis and Harry.  
There was nothing else Louis needed or wanted. This was everything he’d dreamed of. All of those empty places in his body – his life – that he didn’t know how or what to fill with were suddenly complete. This was it. He didn’t want to move. Louis was surrounded by Harry in every single sense of the word and suddenly the only thing running through Louis’ head was…  
‘Wow.’  
And then he heard Harry inhale a deep breath and felt his head turn to the side, and the only thing going through Louis’ mind was ‘please don’t wake up, please don’t wake up’. He wasn’t done soaking in the details of Harry yet. He needed more time – he had to look.  
So he did.  
Although the room was dull, and the sun was faintly glistening in through the windows, Harry’s skin was an ever-present illuminating glow. His pale complexion was being colored in by the transition from winter to spring, and it seemed that as his skin pigment grew deeper, his glow exponentially gained luminosity. He looked so tranquil with his long eyelashes flushed together, temporarily guarding him from the harsh trials of reality; but they looked as though they were about to open in any second, and he seemed prepared to face whatever obstacles life threw at him with total peace of mind and ease. The tops of his eyelids looked as though they’d been bathed in gleams of white moonlight. His plump, rose lips were slightly parted, breathing in the air that touched Louis’ skin. His tamed hair was gently splayed onto his forehead.  
Harry was unconditionally beautiful, both his physical body and his self, that it lifted Louis.  
Just looking at him caused every single atom of his body to flutter in joy and ecstasy. That fire pit hiding somewhere beneath his stomach suddenly sprouted wings and unabashedly alighted itself all over Louis’ body. Those flames were fully ablaze now, sporting colors that were brighter and heat that was hotter than any star; they threatened to burst through his skin. They reveled in all of their strength, pride, and happiness. They ignited Louis’ body and if they had a voice, they’d be screaming out to the entire Universe ‘AMORE! AMORE! AMORE!’  
Louis felt weightless.  
Then Harry’s eyelashes fluttered open, and the same fire that was just set off in Louis’ body dominated every single speck of Harry’s eyes.  
And it was all too much to handle.  
And it was far too early to handle it.  
Suddenly, a fear raced through Louis’ veins, and he couldn’t keep looking at Harry like this. The implications of it were far too vast, so without hesitation he closed his eyelids, locked them shut, threw away the key, and pretended to still be asleep. Of course, all Harry had to do was listen to Louis’ blood vigorously pumping through his body to understand that he was nowhere even close to being asleep. In fact, this was probably the most awake – the most alive – he’d ever been in his entire life.  
The room was silent as Harry woke up. Louis tried not to make a single noise. He realized Harry was about to get up and move, so he tried to savor the last seconds he had of this moment. Louis put all of his energy into feeling the way his hand effortlessly fit over the area where he was grasping onto Harry’s arm. What he wasn’t expecting was for the grip on his waist to tighten in that moment; Harry held him even closer than before and slightly muzzled his nose into Louis’ neck. Louis’ stomach did a triple axel at the feeling and he used all of his strength to not let a smile break out, even though this felt like one of the greatest moments of his life. He relished in the way their bodies seamlessly fit together. Everything just belonged. This sort of joy and completion had to be what life was made up of.  
And then without any warning, the entirety of Harry’s body vanished from all points of attachment to Louis’ in less than a second. He felt the dip in the mattress and the tug of the sheets as Harry rolled out of the bed. He heard Harry’s bare feet crack as they padded across the floor. And he heard the bathroom door quietly click open and clack shut.  
Only then did he open his eyes. Only then did he reach out his hand to feel the warmth of the mattress where Harry had just been asleep. Only then did he fully comprehend what had just happened:  
Louis was in love with Harry.  
Louis was truly, utterly, and unconditionally in love with Harry.  
Wow.  
When the hell did this happen? How long had he been in love?  
Holy shit: he was in love. With Harry.  
Louis Tomlinson was in love with Harry Styles.  
His heart pounded on his ribcage as if it wanted to jump out and personally give Louis a hug for finally accepting this. He felt like such a goddamn idiot for not realizing it sooner. And then Louis started laughing because he was in love. He was in love! Holy shit. This was absurd. He was in love with his lifelong friend.  
Wow.  
How could everything get so much better and so much worse at the same time?  
Louis didn’t know, but what he did know was that he was really fucking screwed.

 

“Gumby, pass the jam.”  
“I resent that; I look nothing like Gumby.” Gemma shrugged and reached her hand out for Harry to pass the jam. Harry put his hand around the jar but made no attempt to lift it; instead, he challengingly squinted his eyes, “You’re just jealous of me.”  
“Not really, no.” She said monotonously. Harry lifted up his other hand and motioned up and down his body.  
“You don’t want this body?” Gemma cackled.  
“I don’t want a penis.”  
“Can you two go one hour without saying something inappropriate?” Harry’s Mom quietly yelled at them. Rita and Alma were in the kitchen, so Louis guessed that she didn’t want them to hear the banter going on.  
“Woah, woah, woah, this is all on her.”  
“I don’t care. Pass her the jam and get it over with.” Gemma smiled and blinked her eyes, feigning innocence in a way that was remarkably similar to how Lottie always would. Harry shook his head and begrudgingly handed the jam over.  
“If she and I robbed a store together, you’d only blame me.”  
“Don’t rob anyone and we won’t run into that problem, then.” Harry’s mouth dropped open and Louis couldn’t help but laugh along with Gemma and Harry’s Mom at that.  
“I shit you not, they always gang up on me.” Harry explained to Louis. His eyes locked onto Louis’ and shit, shit, shit! Those green eyes had a way of widening and then zoning in on Louis, as if he were the only thing on the entire planet and possessed the ability to stare holes into Louis’ soul. His stomach was a whirlpool when Harry looked at him like this, which, now thinking about it, was basically all the time. He’d been avoiding eye contact with Harry the entire morning and was saying as little as possible; ever since his newfound…revelation, he thought it would be better to avoid anything else from happening. There was enough going on in both of their lives right now, and Louis really didn’t need to add to the mess he and Harry were currently in.  
“For God’s sake, Harold, language.” Gemma said in a mocking tone. Harry pointed a finger at her.  
“See.” Harry’s Mom leaned over to Louis,  
“It’s like being in a room with two ten-year-olds.”  
“Nine-year-olds, actually.” Harry commented. Robin strolled into the room with a plate full of eggs and biscuits, kissed Harry’s Mom on the top of her head, and took the open seat to her right.  
“Morning, how is everyone?”  
“Your daughter’s being a delinquent.” Harry immediately answered. Gemma rolled her eyes and said,  
“No I’m not.” While her Dad said at the same time,  
“Doesn’t surprise me.”  
“Excuse me?” Harry and Robin laughed while Harry’s Mom shook her head, looking like she was completely used to this type of conversation. “I’m not a delinquent. Mom – ”  
“I’m not getting involved.”  
“Fine. I’ll get a non-biased opinion: Louis,” his head popped up at that, “am I a delinquent?”  
“Umm…” Gemma’s eyes were wide and – wow, she really knew how to do the perfect puppy face. Unfortunately for her, Lottie had that nailed down years ago, so Louis had built up a perfect immunity to it by this point. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Harry nodding. “I feel like I shouldn’t take a side in this…” He said cautiously.  
“Since when have you not taken a side?” Harry asked. Louis connected their gazes together once again, saw a flash of pain pass through Harry’s eyes, and suddenly he felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. Sure, Harry had meant it in a kidding way, but there was a grain of morbid truth to it when Louis thought back to when they were in High School. Louis took a side back then, and it was that he and Harry shouldn’t be in a true functioning relationship together. But no: that was back then and he wasn’t like that anymore. And Harry had to know that.  
“Since I actually started evaluating both sides of a situation.” He said it with a hint of humor, as to make it seem like a sarcastic comment, but Harry’s eyebrows slightly furrowed at that. It was clear Harry was trying to interpret that, while all the others confusedly looked back and forth between the two. The only sound in the room was the scratching of silver forks on ceramic plates. An awkward tension was growing by the inch as each millisecond passed by and Louis began to regret saying anything at all. There was a reason he tried to say as little as possible this morning and now he ruined it. Great. He cleared his throat to try and break the silence, but no one took the bait…until Gemma steered the conversation back on track.  
“…Just answer the question.”  
“Louis, don’t take part in this.” Harry’s Mom told him.  
“No, no, no, Louis, feel free to answer truthfully.” Robin told him.  
“Stop pressuring the boy, will you all?” Alma ordered as she entered the dining room with a cup of tea. It was as if she had casted some sort of spell because everyone immediately dropped the topic without any protest being made. She took the open seat next to Louis and lightly patted him on the arm. “How did everybody sleep?” A jumbled sea of ‘good’ commenced, but Louis didn’t answer, instead opting to dart his gaze over to see what Harry’s response was. And as fate would have it, Harry was staring right back at him with a sort of deer-in-the-headlights panic projected throughout his body. As soon as the contact was made, though, it was immediately broken because they both looked away.  
“Louis, Harry, how’s the guest house?” Of course Alma would ask that. That would be his luck.  
“Fine.” They both responded with at the same time. Once again Louis looked to Harry as if it were a reflex. Harry was looking back. They both broke the eye contact as soon as it had been made for the second time in less than ten seconds; that was impressive.  
“Is Rita in the kitchen?” Harry rushed out.  
“No, she just went into your father’s office to call – ”  
“Excuse me.” Harry said as he abruptly stood up and walked out of the room. Louis was praying that their relationship wouldn’t turn awkward after this morning, but that was clearly not the case. The table fell silent once again as the Twist’s ate their breakfast and Louis toyed with the food on his plate. Harry truly had a way of confusing Louis unlike anyone he’d ever known before. He could see Alma observing him out of the corner of his eye, so he looked at her only to be greeted with a sympathetic smile.  
These were going to be a long four days. 

 

Harry barely spared Louis a glance after breakfast; Louis tried to rationalize it by making himself believe that he was just doing it because his family was there and he wanted to give them as much attention as possible.  
He knew that wasn’t the case, though.  
Harry, his Mom, and Rita went to the attorney’s office that afternoon to read and discuss the last will and testament of Mr. Styles. Louis was preparing himself for a stone cold Harry when he got back, or a breakdown very similar to last night, or, judging on how the day was playing out, a really uncomfortable Harry who had suddenly lost the ability to make prolonged eye contact and conversation with Louis. Right now, though, Alma and Robin were in deep conversation at the kitchen table while Louis and Gemma sat on adjacent couches in the living room. Gemma’s eyes were glued onto her iphone screen, while Louis tried not to make things uncomfortable as he browsed through television channels. For obvious reasons, he wanted to be on Gemma’s good side, but quite frankly, he had no idea what to talk about with her; there was a thin line between trying too hard and not trying at all. He heard Gemma heave out a sigh so he looked over at her. She was agitatedly tossing her iphone from one hand to the other with her eyes blankly staring at some spot on the wall,  
“Doing okay?” He dared to ask.  
“Hmm?” Her eyes met Louis’ and she was pulled out of her thoughts, “Oh, yeah. Fine.” Louis slowly nodded, not knowing where to go from here. How did he interact with Lottie when they were teenagers? He remembers fighting a lot about dumb things, or her complaining about the dramatic situations she’d managed to get herself into, but that doesn’t start a conversation… “Do people ever get less stupid?” Oh. Right: this was how his talks with Lottie began. Well, at least he was a sort-of expert at handling this sort of conversation.  
“Define stupid.”  
“I dunno…just like…petty, dramatic, obnoxious…that sort of thing.”  
“The smart people do.”  
“What about mediocre?”  
“Umm…that one definitely depends on the person.” Gemma nodded and her focus went back down to the vibrating phone in her hands. She looked at the screen, frowned, and then rolled her eyes.  
“Can I give you a hypothetical scenario?” Louis found himself thinking about those times when Lottie would barge into his bedroom when he was doing homework, lie down on his bed, and go off on a rant about all the problems in her life. That continued to happen when she visited him in college. The familiarity of the situation crept up on Louis, and a small smile grew on his face.  
“Sure.”  
“Okay, so say there’s this girl and her friend. The friend has this really sweet boyfriend, but she cheated on him because she’s an idiot. The girl tells the friend that she needs to tell her boyfriend because the guy she cheated with is friends with all of them, and everyone is gonna find out in, like, a day anyway. But now the friend thinks the girl likes her boyfriend and is trying to steal him from her…like, what? How did she even get to that conclusion?” It was blatantly obvious that they weren’t talking about a hypothetical situation. Louis was impressed that Gemma had let down her walls so fast and could talk to him like they’d been close family-friends for years.  
“The friend sounds like an idiot who doesn’t know how to own up to her actions.”  
“I know, right? She’s making up scenarios where she comes out as the pure, innocent, little angel and I’m the devil’s incarnate – ” Louis burst out in a cackle, a bit in disbelief that those words just came out of her mouth. Times had definitely changed since Lottie complained to him. Gemma began giggling as a dimpled smile appeared on her face; Louis could easily see the resemblance she bared to Harry. Well, on the bright side, at least he got Gemma to smile. “I’m not even being dramatic for once; do you wanna see these texts?” As much as he wanted to get on Gemma’s good side, he wasn’t really in the mood to read her texts.  
“No, I believe you.”  
“Okay…so yeah, that’s the situation, and, like, I have no idea what to do because she’s done listening to me and I’m not even in the same state as them right now.” Gemma slumped down into her seat with a defeated sigh.  
“If her boyfriend’s gonna find out anyway, then just back away and let what’s coming to her come to her. Let karma do its work. Quite frankly she sounds like, a, umm…”  
“Bitch? Whore?” Gemma said it, not him; he nodded in confirmation. “She is. Like, she’s my friend, but she’s done so much shit and she gets in the middle of everything just to be in situations; she’s an attention whore. One time she hooked up with the guy I liked at the time just because ‘she didn’t know’ which is total bullshit.” Yeah, things had definitely changed since he and Lottie were in High School. The idea of a ‘friend’ had seemed to take on a new, lesser meaning.  
“Why are you still her friend?” Gemma scrunched up her mouth and paused for a moment,  
“I mean…well, like…it’s just nice to have someone, you know? Even if they’re not the right person…like, if they kinda fit the mold, then they work…do you know what I mean?” This was literally like listening to Niall’s reasoning for why Harry was dating fucking Michael. Louis felt like hitting his head against a brick wall because why was everyone in this family choosing to be with the wrong person?  
“A little too well.” He found himself mumbling.  
“What do you mean?” Shit: she heard that.  
“I – uhm, I have a friend who’s sort of going through the same thing right now.”  
“Is it Harry?” She immediately jumped on that question like a lion pouncing on its prey. This wasn’t something he could talk about with her, let alone explain to her. Louis felt the blood rush to his cheeks, “It’s okay; you don’t have to tell me. I’m good at reading body language.”  
“Body language…?”  
“Yeah. I’ve been doing a lot of research on it: partly for my psych class, but mainly for my own personal knowledge.” Louis slowly nodded, but he was more than a little bit terrified by what would come out of her mouth next. “You’re tensing up and blushing, so it’s someone Harry associates with who makes you feel uncomfortable.” And yep: he had every right to be terrified. This was something that definitely never happened in his conversations with Lottie, and he had no idea how to react to it. He found himself awkwardly laughing,  
“You’re very forward, aren’t you?” Louis asked, hoping that the discomfort wouldn’t show in his voice. Gemma shrugged,  
“Someone has to be. People say I’m charming.” Oh, so that was a Harry family thing too, not just a Harry thing. Nonetheless, it made Louis smile.  
“It must run in the family.” Gemma’s eyebrows raised and now a small smile formed on her lips,  
“You think Harry’s charming?” Louis fondly rolled his eyes thinking about Harry,  
“He thinks he’s charming.”  
“Yeah, but…you must think so too.”  
“Must is a strong word.” Gemma squinted her eyes, and Louis kept his face blank. After a moment, she focused her attention back on her iphone and Louis sighed a breath of relief because that was over. At least he was a pro at deflecting awkward situations. Gemma looked like she was texting someone, but Louis wasn’t sure so he went back to searching through channels. He finally decided on watching March Madness, even though he didn’t care about it that much besides checking on his alma mater. Zayn, Liam, and himself had attended countless games when they were in college. Zayn had always joined bets and choose Syracuse as the winner each time; in 2003 when they did win, Zayn won a shit ton of money, but for the other fourteen years, he lost a shit ton of money. Louis was never a gambler like that.  
“So you met Harry in…High School?” Louis was pulled out of his thoughts and looked at Gemma,  
“First gra– ”  
“First grade. Right. I knew that.” She knew that? Did Harry tell Gemma about him? “You were best friends for a long time, then.” Louis nodded,  
“Six years.” Gemma paused,  
“So…you were friends when I was born?” Louis’ mind flashed back to sitting underneath that oak tree with Harry at lunch. He remembers the baby-faced sixteen-year-old boy biting his bottom lip and picking the grass in his nerves. He remembers the sixteen-year-old boy pouring his heart out to Louis. He remembers the sixteen-year-old boy crying in his arms and telling him “you’re the best family I’ve ever had”. He remembers truly understanding for the first time what the word ‘love’ meant. Louis forced himself back into the present to stop thinking about…that.  
“I was the first person Harry told when your Mom was pregnant with you.”  
“Did you ever meet me? Like, in person?”  
“Well you guys lived two hours away from us, so when Harry would go to your house and call me, I’d hear you crying on the phone.”  
“Apparently I was the opposite of Harry in that regard…”  
“I think it’s a younger sibling thing; my little sister never stopped crying when she was an infant.”  
“You have a little sister?”  
“Yeah…well, she’s not that little anymore considering she’s thirty and has a kid of her own.”  
“Oh, cool.” Gemma looked back down at her phone, smiling at something on the screen and then looking back up at Louis, “So this is the first time you’ve ever seen me in person?”  
“Umm…” Louis thought back on it and – no, there was one time, “I’ve seen you once before at our graduation. I don’t really remember details of the day, but you were there.” Gemma’s eyes widened and lit up in recognition.  
“Oh my God! That’s why I recognize you!” Louis’ stomach swirled: she recognized him? How the hell did she recognize him? “There’s a picture in our living room of Harry from his High School graduation with his arm around this guy – you’re the guy! The nose and the face and the eyes…yeah, you’re definitely him.” There was a picture of him and Harry from their graduation in 1998 framed in their house? “Woah, this is actually really cool; you know how there are always people in pictures taken a long time ago that you don’t know or they’re strangers? You’re like a stranger with a name and a life – ” Gemma kept going on, but Louis was stuck on the fact that there was a picture of him and Harry in the Twist house. It was no wonder that Harry’s Mom recognized Louis so fast: she’d seen his face everyday for the past sixteen years. And Robin too, for that matter. Even when Louis wasn’t in their lives, he was remembered all this time. His memory was always there. His face was always there. “ – I knew you looked familiar.” He was speechless.  
“Louis,” Robin’s voice came from behind him and he placed a hand on Louis’ shoulder; Louis’ body jumped at the unexpected interruption, “Sorry to cut in – I didn’t scare you, did I?”  
“No.” Robin looked at Louis like he was fully aware that he’d scared him, yet he also had that look on his face of firm reassurance that he’d let it slide and wouldn’t mention it again. Louis was grateful for that.  
“Alma wants you to join her on a walk.”  
“Oh, yeah – sure, of course.”  
“Good man. I’m going to spend some quality time with my second favorite daughter.”  
“I’m your only daughter.”  
“Really? Wow, you must be doing something wrong then.” Robin began laughing as Gemma looked at Louis with mock-pleading eyes.  
“Louis, save me.”  
Louis thought he could get used to the playful, loving banter of this family.  
Well, Louis thought he could get used to this family in general.

 

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Alma had her arm linked with Louis’. This was the first thing she’d said to him, even though they’d been walking for over five minutes.  
“Yeah.”  
“You’ve been quiet today; how are you doing?”  
“I’m fine.” Truth be told, he’d spent the past five minutes trying to comprehend the fact that there was a picture of him and Harry in the Twist household. Whereas Louis’ family, save for Lottie every once in a blue moon, had been more than happy to let Harry’s memory go, Harry’s family’s memory of Louis was still going strong. He felt like he didn’t deserve to stay in their memory with the way he and his family treated Harry. “I’ve just…I’ve been thinking a lot today.” As well as trying to avoid thinking about the l-word and being in the l-word with a man who’s father just died and who already has a boyfriend. But there was no need to mention that. Alma skeptically looked at him,  
“Is that why you’ve become mute?” Louis couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at that.  
“I’m not mute.”  
“Had me fooled. Louis, don’t over think a situation, it’s not good for you. It’ll only cause you to think about problems that aren’t there.” Louis stayed silent. ‘But what if the problems are there?’ he thought. As if she could hear the doubts in his mind, Alma told him, “Trust me, after seventy-four years, I know a thing or two about tough situations. Sometimes all you have to do is glance at a situation to truly understand it.” 

 

Louis couldn’t pinpoint when the urge had begun to rise, but spending time with Harry’s family definitely brought it up to the surface. When he and Alma returned to the house and Harry still wasn’t back, he figured that this would be the best time; he was motivated to get it over with. So he excused himself, went to the guesthouse, sat on one of the rocking chairs on the porch, pulled out his cell phone, and clicked on the contact. He stopped remembering the number by heart years ago. He looked down at it for a solid minute, thinking about if he actually wanted to do this or not. ‘If you don’t do it now, you won’t do it for another month’ He told himself before taking a deep breath and forcing himself to press the number.  
Ding……Ding……Ding…  
He began bouncing his foot up and down. Why was he doing this again? What did he even want out of this conversation?  
…Ding……Di–“Hello?” Louis silently thanked the universe when he heard the soft female voice instead of the harsh male’s.  
“Hi, Mom.”  
“Louis? Oh my goodness, I haven’t heard your voice in ages! How are you, honey?” She sounded ecstatic. Louis felt ashamed that this was the first time he had called her in over two months.  
“I’m good, how are you?”  
“I’m great now to hear you.” And now he felt shitty and guilty for calling because he didn’t care enough to call for the past two months.  
“Good, good…” Yeah, he really had no idea why he called. There was nothing to talk about. He didn’t even feel a sense of relief when he heard his Mom’s voice; he just felt like he wanted to get away. If only someone could hand him the ‘worst son’ award so he could accept the title and all of its responsibilities instead of teetering on the edge of being a loyal son and being a horrible son. The middle is absolute shit.  
“How’s work?”  
“It's good. We were featured in the Inquirer a couple of months ago.” It was more than a couple months ago, but what she didn’t know didn’t hurt her, he figured. That had been the motto he’d lived by for the past eighteen years, so why should it change now?  
“That’s wonderful!” There was a hint of pride in her voice. Louis felt like he didn’t deserve it.  
“Yeah.”  
“Do you have a copy?”  
“Yeah.”  
“You’ll have to show it to me sometime.” He had no idea when that time would be, but he wrote it down on his mental list of ‘things to remember to do’ anyway.  
“Um, yeah sure, okay.”  
“And Liam and Zayn? How are they?”  
“They’re good. They both have new girlfriends.”  
“Great for them! Are they finally settling down like you?” His heart pounded on his chest; it felt like it was trying to beat its way out of the prison it was in and escape this conversation. But he couldn’t escape. This is part of the reason why he called: he needed to tell her. Not about Harry – there was no way in hell he’d tell her about Harry – but about the girlfriend, or lack thereof. “How is Casey, by the way?” And there it was. ‘This is your chance’ he told himself,  
“Casey…yeah, umm – ”  
“Are you bringing her home for Easter this year?” Louis took a deep breath: this was the last time he’d go through this process. No more fake girlfriends. From now on to his parents, he would be single. Single Louis who was not ready to mingle. Ever.  
“No.”  
“And why is that?”  
“We broke up.”  
“Oh…” He heard the disappointment in her voice and felt ashamed once again. “Louis, honey, I’m sorry.”  
“No, it’s fine. It’s…” He disgracefully smiled to himself, “it’s fine. It was just a fling or whatever anyway.”  
"A fling? I thought you were serious about her."  
"Not really."  
“Well...why did you break up? Is there another girl?” And there was the bait. The way out. The way to stop any speculation before it started. He wouldn’t take a bite of that apple anymore.  
“No.”  
“Louis,” Here was the beginning of the talk, the talk he’d gotten countless times in the past ten years. The talk that was basically his Mom’s way of asking ‘what are you doing with you life?’ He definitely shouldn’t have called. “you’re thirty-four. Don’t you think it’s time to stop with these ‘flings’? I can’t remember how many girlfriends you’ve had in the past few years. What happened with Casey? She seemed like such a nice girl.” Louis never came up with a personality for Casey: that was all his Mom’s imagination. He rolled his eyes.  
“We weren’t the right fit.”  
“You’ll have to settle down one of these days.” And that was the expectation that had plagued his relationship with his parents from the beginning, wasn’t it?  
“I’m just…I’m living my life, Mom.”  
“I’d like to see a grandchild before my time comes.”  
“You have Abby.”  
“A child of yours, Louis.”  
“Yeah, well…we’ll see.” What she didn’t know was that he was probably never going to have his own child…well, in the traditional sense anyway. He heard his Mom sigh on her side of the phone and couldn’t help but feel shamefaced. But this was better and easier than the truth for both her and Louis. And his Dad.  
“You and Lottie are still coming up for Easter?” Shit: when was the last time he talked to Lottie? It must have been more than a month ago.  
“Yeah. I’ll call her just to make sure, but yeah. April twentieth.”  
“Good.” She stayed silent after that. Louis felt obliged to ask the customary,  
“How’s Dad?”  
“He’s good. Would you like to talk to him?” No. No, no, no, no, no, no.  
“No, no, it’s okay…I’m just calling to say hi. I should actually get going.”  
“You sure?”  
“Yeah, I have, like, errands to do.”  
“Alright. I’ll talk to you soon?” The hope in her voice was a dagger to Louis’ chest: they both knew they wouldn’t talk until the week before Easter to confirm plans, which was about a month away from now. Yet, she always ended every conversation like this.  
“Course.”  
“Alright, bye, honey. Love you.”  
“Bye, Mom." He hung up the phone, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes.  
That was why he didn’t call in so long: he felt guilty and shitty when talking to his own mother. What a fantastic combination. Who feels guilty and shitty when talking to their mother? He didn’t even want to think about what he’d feel like when talking to his Dad. Louis was a disgrace to his family.  
Well, he might as well hit two birds with one stone. He opened his eyes and pulled up Lottie’s contact,  
Ding……Ding……Ding…“Hello?” It was a lively man’s voice.  
“Joe?”  
“Lewis?” He asked in excited shock. Louis swore every time he talked to Joe on the phone, he could hear Joe’s smile.  
“Hey!”  
“Well I’ll be darned, how’re y’all doin?”  
“I’m good, how are you?”  
“I’m a sight better for talkin’ to you.” Louis would be lying if he said that he didn’t find Joe’s accent even a bit attractive. He silently thanked his sister for marrying a Southern man. “I reckon you wanta talk to Charlotte?”  
“Yeah, please.”  
“I’ll get her for you. Don’t split any hairs in the meantime.”  
“Will do.”  
“Okay.” Joe said with a cheerful chuckle and then he heard rumbling on the other end of the phone. There were words exchanged and sounds of a toddler in the background, but Louis couldn’t make out any coherent sentences until,  
“I hear my estranged brother is callin’ me.” Lottie said in her light, feathery, sunny voice that now had a tang of a Southern accent clinging onto it. That’s what fourteen years in the South and with Joe will do, Louis guesses.  
“You’re the one who moved to Tennessee.”  
“How are you, Louis?” He let out a huff of breath and began rocking back and forth on the chair.  
“I’m okay. Yourself?”  
“Ditto.” One thing he treasured about his and Lottie’s relationship through all these years was that they could completely be themselves around each other; there was nothing else they were required to be. Well, except for the whole Louis ‘is not gay’ thing. “What occasion is it for you to be callin’?”  
“Can I not just call?”  
“When have we ever ‘just called’?” And that was the one thing about his and Lottie’s relationship through all these years that he hated the most. They never called out of want; they called and talked only out of necessity.  
“Mom wants to know if we’re both going up to their house for Easter.”  
“Are you goin’?”  
“I said I was.”  
“Alright, then we’ll go.”  
“That’s fine with Joe’s family?”  
“I’m sure we’ll be spendin’ a weekend with them no matter what or when, so yes, it’s fine. Your preferences are mine.” Louis sighed a breath of relief, thankful that he wouldn’t have to go to his parent’s house for Easter alone. That happened two years ago, and it was more than horribly uncomfortable.  
“How’s Abby?”  
“Good, good, Joe just put her down for a nap.”  
“Anything new I should know about?”  
“Nothin’ I can think of. What about you? There has to be another reason for you callin’. You have somethin’ to tell me.” Lottie’s wits had severely increased since they were teenagers; nothing got past her these days. Going to Vanderbilt and becoming a Mom probably had something to do with that. And yeah, she was right: Louis wanted to tell her about meeting up with Harry again…but how? It wasn’t something he could just mention in passing.  
“Umm…not really.”  
“Louis, lets skip the charades today.” Okay, looks like he was telling her. He took in a deep breath,  
“Guess where I am right now?”  
“Please don’t tell me you’re outside my house…”  
“What? No, I – why would you think that?”  
“Just checkin’.” Louis rolled his eyes.  
“I’m in Raleigh.”  
“North Carolina?” She asked, voice laced with confusion.  
“Yeah.”  
“Why?”  
“Well, umm…” How could he phrase this without raising any eyebrows?  
“Get on with it.”  
“Do you remember my best friend in High School?”  
“…Harry Styles?” She asked with caution. Lottie knew that something had happened in his and Harry’s relationship after graduation, because every time she’d mention his name, Louis would close himself off and not say a word. After a while, she stopped asking, and Louis stopped trying to remember.  
It never worked.  
“Yeah.”  
“Yeah, I remember him.”  
“Well, he’s been living in Philly all these years and he unknowingly hired me to design his own pediatric practice.”  
“What?” She yelled; Louis pulled the phone away from his ear. “Shut the front door!”  
“It’s already shut.” Louis sarcastically mumbled.  
“I don’t believe that!” He found himself smiling,  
“Neither do I, to be honest.”  
“When did this happen?”  
“About a month and a half ago…”  
“And you’re just botherin’ to tell me? Louis, I had the biggest crush on him in High School – ”  
“Trust me, I knew.”  
“You knew?” ‘Everybody with eyes knew’ he thought to himself.  
“It was hard not to. You sucked at hiding secrets.”  
“I didn’t suck that much.”  
“No, trust me, you did.”  
“Whatever. What does he have to do with you bein’ in Raleigh?”  
“Well…we sort of became friends again – ”  
“How do you ‘sort of’ become best friends with someone again? You either are, or you’re not.”  
“Lots, I’m not – just let me finish, okay?”  
“Fine. Continue.”  
“So this past Wednesday he was over my house, and he got a call from his stepmom saying that his Dad passed away – ”  
“Oh no, you’re kiddin’ me.”  
“ – So now I’m here with him in Raleigh for his Dad’s funeral.” Lottie made a ‘tsk’ noise with her tongue and Louis could mentally picture her shaking her head back and forth,  
“I’m so sorry that happened to him. Send him my best regards, will ya?”  
“Yeah, definitely.”  
“I still can’t believe this.” Louis nodded and slightly chuckled to himself.  
“You and me both.”  
“So…you’re in Raleigh with Harry, your sort of reunited best friend.”  
“It sounds weird when you say it like that.”  
“The situation is definitely one of a kind.”  
“Well…yeah, I guess so.” Louis paused: he should probably tell her about the whole ‘girlfriend’ situation, shouldn’t he?  
“Whatever you’re thinkin’, just say it.”  
“Me and, uh, Casey broke up.”  
“I thought it was Cassie?” No ‘aww, I’m so sorry’ or ‘what a shame’ but instead a skeptical question. That could not be a good sign.  
“No…Casey.”  
“Cassie, Casey – she didn’t exist so it doesn’t matter.” Louis’ heart sunk down to the center of the Earth.  
Holy shit.  
What.  
The.  
Fuck.  
“What?”  
“I know you made her up.” Holy shit.  
Holyshitholyshitholyshit.  
What was happening right now? He stopped rocking the chair and stayed still: if he said one wrong thing, he would be screwed over for eternity. Fuck fuck fuck!  
“No I didn’t!”  
“I get it. I understand: you haven’t found the girl yet, so you’re makin’ girls up to trick Mom and Dad into thinkin’ that you’re settlin’ down. They expected you to settle down years ago, and yet here I am, the younger sibling, married and with a kid. It’s a pressure filled situation for you. And before you ask, no, I won’t tell Mom and Dad.” Louis stayed silent. He was shocked and his blood ran cold. How did she know? Why was this happening? If she knew this, then what was preventing her from knowing that he wasn’t straight? “Lou…?”  
“How’d you know?” He whispered into the phone.  
“Had a hunch.” He sat there for a moment thinking about it. Where did she get this ‘hunch’ from? How did she get it? Why did she get it? What did he do wrong? “And you definitely said her name was Cassie.” Fuck. Louis ran a hand down his face. He could not believe this was happening right now.  
“Mom said it was Casey.” Lottie made a ‘tsk, tsk’ sound.  
“You’re losin’ your touch. What happened to the expert liar that I knew?” ‘You mean the expert liar that’s successfully hidden that he’s gay from his family for eighteen years?’ he asked himself.  
“Trust me, he’s still here.”  
“Really?” She asked doubtfully.  
“Really.”  
“Whatever you say.” Louis paused and thought about it: he could tell her right now not to expect him to settle down with a girl anytime in the future. It would be one less person who had expectations of him, which Louis would be more than content with. ‘Okay. Breathe. You can do this’ he told himself.  
“What if I never meet…her?”  
“Now you’re just bein’ pessimistic.”  
“No, I – I mean…” Wait. Maybe he could stop lying in total. Maybe he could stop hiding who he really was. All he had to do was say it. Two words. Two words and it’d be out in the open forever. He’d no longer have to be a liar to his younger sister. He’d no longer have to feel guilty every time the ‘wife’ conversation was brought up. He’d no longer have to hide such a vital component of who he was. “…I mean…” Wait, no. What was he thinking? Lottie was married to a born-again-Christian: there was no way he could tell her. Even if she approved, there was a slim to none chance that Joe and his family would, and then he’d have to tell his parents, and there was a negative chance in Hell that they would approve, and then he’d be disowned from his entire family and every pillar in his life would collapse from there and – shit. This was what he’d been avoiding for eighteen years. He knew the consequences and he knew them well. What was he thinking? “Never mind.”  
“No need to lose hope, you’ll find her; she’s out there waiting for you somewhere.” He wanted to correct her statement. He wanted to correct it so badly. But he knew he couldn’t. Maybe in an alternate universe his life would be easier. Maybe in an alternate universe he would have a normal functioning relationship with his family.  
“Right.” He found himself solemnly chuckling.  
“Why are you laughin’?”  
“No reason, it’s just…funny.”  
“How?”  
“I just…” The all too familiar figure walked out of the back door, green eyes connecting with his, and Louis’ breath hitched. Damn it: why did Harry have that effect on him? “I gotta go. I’ll text you, or call you, or something, alright?”  
“Okay…” She said warily, “don’t be a stranger, Louis.”  
“I won’t.”  
“Remember to send Harry my condolences, okay?”  
“Will do. See you later.”  
“Bye, Lou.” He ended the conversation, pocketed his phone, and gave a small wave to Harry who was walking up to the house with a notepad folded underneath his arm. Harry smiled his tight-lip-fake-grin out of courtesy as he climbed up the stairs. His legs seemed weak and his body looked tired. Louis couldn’t even imagine how emotionally exhausted Harry must feel.  
“Hey.”  
“Hi.” Harry stopped on the top step and pointed his index finger towards the phone in Louis’ hand. “Who was that?”  
“Lottie.” Harry’s eyes widened in surprise,  
“Oh, how is she?”  
“She’s good.”  
“What about Abby and…Joseph?” Louis’ heart swelled knowing that Harry had remembered his extended family and put in the effort to care about them.  
“They’re good too. She sends her condolences.”  
“Oh, thanks.” Harry looked down, eyebrows furrowed, and shuffled his feet. He hesitated before asking, “You told her?”  
“Told her…?”  
“That you were here…with, ummm…me?” The uncertainty in Harry’s voice was as endearing as it was heartbreaking that he didn’t think Louis would tell Lottie about him. Granted, he had legitimate reason to believe that Louis would never do that based on the past and his knowledge of Louis’ family, but Louis still felt bad about it.  
“Yeah.”  
“Oh.” Harry was scuffing his shoes together. God, he was still such a child. A grown man with childlike insecurities. It was one of the many things that Louis loved so much about him. Shit – not loved, just…fuck. Yeah. Loved.  
“You can sit down, you know.”  
“Right.” Harry took a seat in the rocking chair next to Louis’. He fiddled his thumbs together, a clear sign that he was debating something in his head. Louis knew not to push anything and instead wait for him to vocalize something, but he could only listen to the breeze for so long before he was no longer able to ignore the nerves that felt like spiders crawling up his skin.  
“What’d she…like, how did she react to that?” Alright, so he was still thinking about Louis telling Lottie about the current circumstances, which meant that he was thinking about Louis, which he was perfectly okay with.  
“She said she had a crush on you in High School.” Harry’s face broke out in shock, which Louis was a bit confused about.  
“What? Really?”  
“Harry.”  
“I never noticed.” How did he never notice? Now Louis’ face was the one broken out in shock. “What?”  
“She was so obvious that I wanted to strangle her most of the time.” Harry actually smiled this time, dimples and all.  
“Really?”  
“Yes.”  
“Oh.” He looked down at the notepad in his hands and ran his finger around the edges. Louis didn’t know how to continue that conversation without it steering into ‘I liked you more and still do’, so instead he steered it in a different direction.  
“What’s that?”  
“Hmm?” Harry looked up at Louis, “Oh, ummm, just notes.”  
“Notes?”  
“Yeah. I have to write the thing for Dad’s…umm, service tomorrow. So…yeah. Notes.” Louis nodded.  
“How was the reading?” Harry cleared his throat.  
“Ummm…interesting. I knew that certain things would go to certain people, but the distribution, I just…like,” Harry let out a small huffed chuckle of disbelief, “he specifically left me eight hundred thousand dollars to buy a house.” What? Holy shit that’s a lot of money for a house.  
“Woah, that’s really generous.”  
“Yeah. And like…” Harry was looking down at his notepad and skimming the edges of the pages with his thumb, “I know he never held me up to any expectations, but ‘if I ever get married’ he left me one hundred thousand dollars for a wedding and ‘if I ever have kids’ he put aside six hundred thousand dollars to pay for my kid’s education.” Holy shit. Louis knew Harry’s Dad was wealthy, but this was extreme wealth. The money would certainly help Harry out if he did decide to do those things, but…well, Louis didn’t want to think about Harry going down that path of his life with someone that wasn’t Louis. Buying a house, getting married, having kids, he couldn’t imagine Harry doing it with another man. And maybe that was selfish – no, it was definitely selfish of him, but could he really be blamed if he didn’t want the guy he was in love with to plan out the rest of his life right now with fucking Michael in the mix? What would happen if Harry did all of this with fucking Michael? What if he and Louis just stayed friends and Louis was forever in love with a man he could never have? Based on the past, maybe he deserved that. It would be induced karma. But that didn’t mean he approved of it. “And that money can only be used for those purposes. So if I don’t use it, the government gets it, which I’m sure he’d be fine with, but I just…I’d feel horrible giving his money away. That’s not what a son is supposed to do with his dead father’s money.” There was another layer to this? Holy shit. No wonder Harry viewed it as a lock-in. But this didn’t seem like something Mr. Styles would do to Harry; the way Harry saw it was the way that Louis’ parents would force him into doing something even after they were dead. Harry’s Dad would never do that to him, though.  
“Well…you have the rest of your life to figure out what you want to do, it’s nothing you have to rush into.” ‘Especially kids and getting married, so don’t feel like you have to marry fucking Michael right now.’ He found himself thinking, “He probably put the money there so that if you ever decide to go down that path, you won’t have to stress out about it financially.”  
“I know, I know.” Harry said with a sense of tired knowledge; it was clear that he’d been thinking about this the entire day, going through each possible ‘if’. “It’s just that…with everything else he also gave me…he left me more than anyone else, even Rita. He wanted me to be happy and secure, he always has, I know that, but now I’m worried that maybe he just…” Harry paused, his sentence dissipating into thin air.  
“He just what?”  
“Nothing.” He said while dejectedly shaking his head back and forth.  
“It’s clearly not nothing. Why are you worried?” Harry hesitated,  
“Maybe he left me this much because…I’m not what he expected, you know? And now to get the money, I’ll have to do certain things that he did want me to do. I mean, he always accepted me for whatever I did or whoever I was, but…what man who was previously on the Forbes list of the top five hundred most powerful people in the World expects to have a gay son who’s a pediatrician? Now I feel like if I don’t get married or have kids, I’ll always carry around this…I dunno – shame, I guess – that I didn’t turn out to be what he wanted me – ”  
“Harry, stop. You do realize that you’re completely over thinking this, right?” Harry finally attached his eyes to Louis’ with a look that could only be defined as fear.  
“Am I, though?” He whispered, plea-like and asking Louis to prove him wrong.  
“Yes. I can tell you from my first-hand experience that your Dad has always been proud of you. Whenever I talked to him, he’d always tell stories about you or brag about you. Maybe you weren’t what he expected, but that didn’t stop him from loving you any less or continuing to support you. And even though he’s not…you know, here, he’s still supporting you. You want to a buy a house, or get married, or have kids and make sure they have the best education possible? Guess what: you don’t have to worry about it because your Dad has it taken care of. This isn’t him trying to force you into doing something you don’t want to do; this is him supporting you down whatever path you decide to take. Trust me, I would know.” Harry stayed silent for a few moments, dissecting the words that left Louis’ mouth. The only sound that passed by them was the soft whispers of the wind, which felt like a pat on Louis’ back, until Harry quietly said,  
“I’m sorry.” Louis was definitely not expecting that reaction.  
“For what?”  
“That you know.” The amount of pity that was on display on Harry’s face was too much. It was way too much. And it wasn’t even pity for himself and that his Dad had just died of a heart attack; no, it was pity for Louis’ relationship with his own father. And there was guilt sewn into his words where guilt shouldn’t be. But fuck, Louis wasn’t in the mood to have this conversation. They shouldn’t even be going down the path to this conversation in the first place. Why could he never avoid this topic?  
“You shouldn’t be sorry for…” ‘my shitty relationship with my father’? He couldn’t say that. “…it’s whatever.”  
“It’s not, tho–”  
“Harry.” Louis said with a sharp bite to it. Shit. That came off harsher than he meant for it to be. This just wasn’t a topic he wanted Harry to think about, let alone talk about with Louis right now because that would mean that Louis would have to think about it. And he wasn’t in the mood for that. “Why don’t we talk about how your Dad has managed to prove that he’s always gonna be there for you? That’s something you should talk about tomorrow.” Alright, that basically came off as ‘fuck off, let’s talk about you Dad’s funeral’. Not what he was going for. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Harry cautiously nodded, his eyebrows furrowed in a hurt, defenseless way, before gripping his notebook and standing up. Shit, Louis just fucked up.  
“I should start writing. I’m just gonna, umm…go inside. I’m kinda cold out here.” Louis opened his mouth to apologize, but as soon as he did so, Harry said, “You can stay here, though, it’s fine.” It was obvious that Harry didn’t want Louis to follow him. Louis wasn’t sure if it was because Harry wanted privacy or if he wanted to get away from him. Either way, Louis didn’t blame him.  
“Okay.”  
“Gemma was wondering where you were, though. So you might wanna consider – ”  
“I’ll go talk to her, then.” Harry nodded and then walked to the front door. “You’ll join us when you’re done?” He didn’t turn around when he answered,  
“Yeah.” And that stung because Louis could hear the hurt, anger, and general ‘please, just let me go’ in his voice. Louis deserved it; induced karma, and all.  
“Okay. Umm, good luck.”  
“Thanks.”

 

Gemma found Scrabble lying around in one of the game drawers, so Louis agreed to play because it would help get his mind off of worrying about Harry; it didn’t really work, because his mind kept drifting to how he just snapped at him. He debated multiple times going to check on Harry, apologize, and make sure he didn’t hate him, but Harry deserved his privacy. After all, he was hurt and acted like he wanted to get away from Louis.  
Louis didn’t blame him; he wanted to get away from himself at times too.  
After two games, Louis learned that even though he had seventeen more years of life on Gemma, she had the vocabulary of the Encyclopedia Britannica. He also learned that apparently ‘zymurgy’ was a real word after a heated debate in which the dictionary was put to use and Gemma came out on top. Louis was getting owned by a sixteen year old. It was thoroughly frustrating.  
“Why are you so good at this?”  
“I just put ‘cule’ on the end of your ‘mole’. You don’t need brains to do that.”  
“But you do. You completely changed the word.”  
“You don’t play this game much, do you?”  
“Am I not obvious enough?” Gemma laughed,  
“What game do you play?”  
“My sister and I used to play Sorry a lot.”  
“Ew, why?”  
“What do you mean, ‘ew, why’?”  
“Sorry is a game totally based on chance. Wouldn’t you rather have control over winning?”  
“The less I have to use my brains in a board game, the less stupid I look when I lose.”  
“Especially against a sixteen year old…”  
“Ouch.”  
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Sort of.” The mischievous, challenging grin on Gemma’s face conveyed a look of teasing, witty humor that Louis was definitely attuned to. Her sense of humor was much different than Harry’s, the latter’s focusing on stupid jokes, bizarre stories, and any general weird inappropriate thing. No matter the case, he was beginning to understand and appreciate Gemma more and more with each one of their conversations. “So, Louis, tell me about yourself. Where are you from, what do you do, etcetera…”  
“Umm, well, I grew up about fifteen minutes away from Harry. We went to the same schools – ”  
“No, like…tell me what makes you Louis.” He thought about that for a moment, but all he could come up with was,  
“I’m an architect.”  
“What made you go into that?”  
“I was always…imaginative and creative, I guess. And I didn’t want to be stuck at a desk all day, even though I sort of am now. But it’s a desk that I have fun at and it doesn’t actually feel like a desk, so it works.” Louis added on a ‘tr’ and ‘t’ on the ‘o’ in oxygen. He pointed to the board, “Look at this skill. Just sit here and admire it for a second.”  
“I mean, it’d be good if this were amateur hour.” That actually made Louis laugh.  
“Wow, you might be more competitive than I am.”  
“Probably.”  
“I was the captain of my school’s varsity soccer team.”  
“I’m the captain of my school’s varsity lacrosse team.” Louis slowly nodded,  
“That explains a lot…”  
“I can’t tell if that was a compliment or an insult.”  
“Good.” Gemma laughed and Louis was thankful that she understood and appreciated his sense of sarcasm.  
“What company do you work for?”  
“I actually started my own firm with two friends.”  
“Really?”  
“Yeah.”  
“That’s cool; you’re like an entrepreneur.”  
“Sort of. I’ve never really used that term to describe myself before.”  
“You should. It makes you sound official.”  
“Am I not official now?”  
“It’ll make you sound more official.”  
“Wow, thanks.” Gemma bit her bottom lip to stifle her taunting laugh.  
“Have either of you seen Harry?” Harry’s Mom came into the living room asking, “I haven’t seen him since we got back two hours ago.” Had it been two hours? Shit, he knew he should’ve checked on Harry.  
“He’s in our house writing something for tomorrow.” Gemma’s eyebrows furrowed out of curiosity, and it was only then did he realize what he just said: our house. He referred to it as ‘our house’. It just flowed out of his mouth without a thought. That was…weird. And it was making his stomach do some intricate back flips thinking about the implications of an ‘our house’.  
“Thanks, Louis. Dinner should be ready in twenty minutes. I’m going to go check on him.” Louis just about jumped up,  
“I can do that.”  
“No, no, it’s okay, finish your game.”  
“Are you sure?” ‘Let me go check on him, I need to check on him, I need to apologize’ he thought.  
“Of course, you two finish your game.”  
“Okay…” Harry’s Mom walked out of the room and Louis felt a tinge of guilt pass through him. He should be the one to check on Harry. Shit, he was thinking about this way too much: Harry was being checked on by someone that loves him and that was what mattered. He looked down at the board to see Gemma had added a ‘rans’ vertically onto the first ‘t’ in Louis’ ‘trot’. “When did that get here?”  
“When you were talking to my Mom.”  
“I feel like you’re much sneakier than I originally pegged you for.” Gemma shrugged.  
“So, do you have a boyfriend?” What? Jesus, this felt like the fifth time today that his body fell through the floor. That was completely out of the blue. It also meant that she thought he was gay, which he didn’t ever say or show…did he? His own sister didn’t know he was gay even though they’d spent thirty-two years together; how did Harry’s younger sister know after a day? “Or girlfriend, I dunno, I just kinda assumed. Sorry.” Okay, so she didn’t know, she just assumed…still terrifying. But he could work with it.  
“No, no, it’s…you didn’t assume wrong.”  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”  
“No, no, it’s okay. You just kinda caught me off guard.” She nodded,  
“So…”  
“No.” Louis looked down at his palate of letters as if he was feigning disinterest in the topic, but it definitely wasn’t the case.  
“Are you interested in any guy?” Yes, Gemma was definitely sneakier than he pegged her for.  
“Umm…”  
“You don’t have to tell me who, it’s okay.” Louis stayed silent as he placed a ‘form’ onto the end of her ‘trans’.  
“That was a good one.”  
“Did I just receive a genuine compliment from you about my talent at this game?”  
“You should feel honored. You’ve officially gotten more compliments from me than Harry does at this game. He sucks so much at this.” Harry would be the Ivy League student who sucks at Scrabble. Yet another thing Louis found endearing about him.  
“Give him credit for trying.”  
“It’s kinda hard when he manages to turn everything into a penis innuendo.” Louis broke out into a genuine laugh.  
“Classic.” Gemma rolled her eyes.  
“That’s one name for it.” Louis found the different degrees of seriousness that Gemma and Harry took this game to be entertaining; he was definitely with Harry on this one.  
“So what about you? Any boyfriend?” Gemma bashfully bit her bottom lip,  
“Well…I like this guy, his name is Will, and he likes me too. He’s tall, he has these really blue eyes, brown hair, really smart, he’s in cum laude, he’s funny, captain of the crew team, and just like…yeah.” Gemma’s voice was softer as she talked about this guy. Louis nodded in approval.  
“Sounds like the packaged deal.”  
“Yeah. The only problem is that he’s in the grade above me and is just way too focused on the age thing. My Mom and Uncle Des were seventeen years apart when they got married and had Harry – like, build a bridge and get over it. Boys are so dumb, I swear.”  
“They get better for the most part. They’re just really stupid at your age.”  
“Were you stupid when you were my age?” Stupid? To say Louis was stupid at her age was a generous statement. Louis paused before disgracefully laughing to himself and shaking his head,  
“I made my fair share of colossal fuck ups.” Confusion washed over Gemma’s face. Apparently she wasn’t expecting that response.  
“Like…”  
“The specific mistakes don’t matter, the fact that I realized them and tried to change so I wouldn’t make them again does.” Gemma nodded.  
“And how’s that working for you?”  
“I’d like to think that I’m not as out of touch or as out of my mind as I was back then.”  
“Would Harry agree with that?” Gemma cautiously asked while picking up two letter blocks and jumbling them in her hand.  
“Hopefully.”  
“Fair enough.” Gemma added a ‘er’ to ‘transform’. Louis knocked over his palate of words and lay down on the ground.  
“This isn’t fair. I quit. Scrabble sucks.” Gemma broke out into hysterics. Louis couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pride swell throughout his body being the cause of it.  
Yes, he could definitely get used to the Styles-Twist family.

 

Louis was helping set the dining room table with Lottie when he looked through the open doorway that connected the room with the kitchen. It’s no mystery to figure out if Harry’s been crying. The clear-cut signs are the puffy eyes, pink nose, and fading red splotches spread out all over his face. And that was exactly how Louis saw him when he walked into the kitchen with his Mom as they talked in hushed voices, her hand rubbing up and down his back. Shit. Harry was crying and Louis wasn’t there. What if he started crying because of how Louis snapped at him? And what type of best friend was he if he couldn’t comfort Harry? Louis felt horrible. He needed to fix this.  
“What are you looking at?” Gemma asked before glancing into the kitchen. As soon as she saw it a quiet “oh” came out of her mouth. Louis watched Harry walk out of the kitchen through the other door, presumably to go to the bathroom. He put the stack of forks and knives he was setting out down on the table and quickly said,  
“Be right back.” He rushed out of the other door of the dining room and ventured down the long hallway to find Harry walking towards the bathroom. Louis jogged to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey.” Harry turned around in shock, but it rapidly dissipated into relief when he saw Louis’ face. “What’s wrong?” Harry feigned his thin-lipped smile and shook his head. Louis rubbed his thumb on Harry’s shoulder where his hand was sitting. He tried once again, but in a much softer voice this time: “What’s wrong?” He could see that Harry’s eyes were on the brim of welling up with tears.  
“A lot.” He said in a weak voice.  
“Do you wanna go somewhere – ”  
“No. It’s okay.”  
“You sure?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Harry – ”  
“I’m fine, Louis.” This time Harry nodded, as if he were trying to convince himself. “I’m fine.” Louis was still skeptical. “I really have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be at dinner in a minute, okay?”  
“You’re sure?”  
“Yes, and I’ll be even better if I go to the bathroom in the next five seconds and my bladder doesn’t burst.” It was evident that Harry wasn’t going to reveal anything. Louis let go of his shoulder.  
“Okay, okay. Go.”

 

After dinner, Harry took a shower while Louis responded to the sixteen emails that had piled up in his inbox. This included one from Zayn with no subject title that said ‘Syracuse lost to Dayton 55-53. DAYTON. WHAT THE FUCK!!!! I hate basketball. I just lost another grand. I’m never filling out a fucking bracket again. God damn it. I can’t believe this.’ with links to five separate articles about the game. Then there was a follow up email saying ‘Hope everything is going well in Raleigh. Tell Harry I say hi’. Louis responded with ‘You’re the one who puts $1000 on Cuse each year and it’s only now you’re giving up? But that’s fucking tragic. At least now it gives Ohio something to say about itself. Raleigh’s okay, funeral is tomorrow so we’ll se how that goes. Called my Mom today and told her that I broke up with Cassie, so that was…yeah. Also called Lottie and told her. Need to tell you and Liam about that one. And I’ll let Harry know.’  
When Harry walked out in navy blue sweatpants, a white tee-shirt, and wet hair, Louis had to physically stop himself from gawking. He took a shower afterwards, the bathroom already heated, fogged up, and smelling like Harry’s shampoo. It took far too much restraint on Louis’ part to not get a boner thinking about Harry being naked in the shower minutes before; the only thing that stopped him from jacking off in the end was the reminder that he was here because Harry’s Dad was dead. It was surprising how good of a mood-killer that was. He only felt a little bit guilty afterwards. Thankfully, the mirror was steamed up so he couldn’t see himself. By the time he put on his glasses, the guilt was gone and he felt like a decent person again.  
When he was done and got out of the bathroom, he found that Harry was sitting on the bed with his back resting on the headboard, intently writing something down in his notebook. When Louis walked around to his side of the bed, Harry stopped writing and looked up at him.  
“I made you tea.” Harry motioned towards the bedside table. Louis looked down and there was a cup of tea filled to the brim waiting for him. Well, that was…really nice. And kind of surprising. But it was such a Harry thing to do.  
“Thank you.”  
“Mhmm.” Harry smiled and then refocused on his notepad, where he tapped his pen a few times before jotting something down. Louis picked up the tea, took a sip, and then sat down on the bed beside Harry. He stared down at the steam rising up from the top of the cup. Harry made him tea even after Louis yelled at him earlier. He needed to apologize.  
“Zayn says hi.” Shit, that wasn’t an apology. Damn it.  
“Oh, tell him I say hi too. How is he?”  
“Pissed off that Cuse lost to Dayton.”  
“They did?”  
“Yeah.” Harry sucked in a short breath through his teeth, which were clasped together in a panicked smile.  
“Niall’s gonna be pissed off; this was the first year he ever did a bracket and I promised him that Syracuse would win. Whoops.”  
“Do you keep up on basketball?”  
“Not really.” So Harry had put complete blind trust in Louis’ alma mater? Interesting.  
“I hope he didn’t bet as much as Zayn.”  
“How much does Zayn bet?”  
“A grand.”  
“Shit. That is some faith that I do not have.”  
“You and me both. I think he’s just an idiot for betting this much very year. He needed a reality check.” Harry chuckled,  
“Welcome to the real World, courtesy of the NCAA.”  
“Yeah, really.” Okay, so that attempt at apologizing didn’t work. He needed to try again. Except Harry went back to writing, and he looked very engrossed in whatever he was putting down, so Louis didn’t want to disturb him just yet. Instead, he took a few sips of his tea and waited until he stopped hearing the pencil vigorously scratching things down on the paper. Then he looked at Harry, who was just staring at the notebook in front of him. Louis took in a deep breath, “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. I didn’t mean to do that.” Harry immediately continued writing after Louis finished his sentence, not even looking up while saying,  
“It’s okay.” Louis wasn’t sure if Harry was actually writing something down or if he was just scribbling on the paper. He knew Harry could be passive-aggressive at times because he was afraid of hurting people’s feelings, but he needed to make sure Harry knew that he was sorry. This wasn’t something he’d let slip under the rug.  
“I didn’t mean to snap.” Harry’s writing slowed down until it came to a complete halt. He stayed like that for a few seconds, before saying,  
“I understand.” That wasn’t what Louis was expecting.  
“Understand what?”  
“Why you snapped.” Louis didn’t want to talk about why, they both knew why; he just wanted Harry to know that it was a mistake.  
“I shouldn’t have, though.” Harry put down his pencil at this point, yet he still hadn’t looked at Louis.  
“I really am sorry.” He quietly said while twiddling his thumbs together. Not this conversation again.  
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”  
“Yeah, I do.”  
“No, you don’t.”  
“Louis, yeah I do. Can you just hear me out?” Harry paused, waiting for an agreement. He finally looked at Louis; soft, tender, and remorse-stricken green eyes zoning in onto Louis’. Louis hated being the cause of that face. He nodded. “I have to apologize to you for coming in between – ” No, no, no, he wasn’t going to allow Harry to do this. He immediately cut in,  
“It’s not your fault – ”  
“Louis, listen to me, please. Give me one minute, that’s all I’m asking for.”  
“No, Harry, because you’re putting the blame of a situation that’s out of your control into your hands. You’re not the reason for it, that’s bullshit.”  
“It wouldn’t be a situation in the first place if we had never…” Harry never finished his sentence. He didn’t need to; they could both finish it for themselves. The room fell silent. Louis didn’t dare look over at Harry, it would’ve only made him feel things he didn’t want to feel. Although, Harry did have a point. But it wasn’t necessarily true; if it wasn’t Harry, it would’ve been someone else. Louis had to break the silence, if only to prove to Harry that he shouldn’t be blamed.  
“My Dad would’ve been clued in at some point if it wasn’t you.”  
“But it was me.”  
“Harry…”  
“There are a lot of hypothetical’s. I get that, Lou, I understand that, but what I’m trying to say is that this situation isn’t a hypothetical. It happened. I know that your parents never really had…the warmest feelings towards me, and I’m trying to tell you now that I’m sorry for causing something to be put in between your relationship with them. I never had to go through what you went through – are going through…and I never understood that or took it into account. I only did what I thought was right at the time. I asked for way too much from you. I wanted…” Harry let out a quiet chuckle of disapproval, “I was selfish. I never actually realized the extent of what you were sacrificing for me, and I’m so sorry for that. I never meant for you to lose – ” Harry paused, “I’m sorry.” This was a lot to take in. Harry had a point…and he was able to back it up. This was a new view on the flaws in their relationship that Louis had never even considered before. Maybe it wasn’t entirely Louis’ fault that they had so many problems. Regardless, though, Louis wasn’t going to let Harry solely blame himself for his own family problems.  
“It would’ve been lost at some point anyway, you know? It’s like a hangnail: it can’t ever be healed, but it can stay severed in the same place and hanging on by a thread for ages. It’s gotta come out at some point…no pun intended.” Harry cackled, which made Louis smile.  
“You need to stop doing that.”  
“I thought you liked stupid jokes.”  
“Not when I’m trying to be serious.”  
“Okay.” Harry stayed silent, waiting for a proper response from Louis. He knew that this conversation wouldn’t end until he gave that to Harry, and it was only fair to him to tell the truth at this point. “Then yes, Harry, this gap between my parents and I was spurred by our relationship. But it wasn’t you; you just happened to be the other party that my parent’s decided to blame my failings on because they couldn’t have raised a son who would be such a fuck up.”  
“You’re not a fuck up.” Louis looked down at his cup.  
“In their eyes I am.”  
“They need a new optometrist.” Louis shrugged and took a sip of tea. The hot liquid was a relief to his burning throat. He really hated this topic. “My Mom and Robin are proud of you.” Proud, now that was a word he never thought could be applicable towards himself.  
“For what?”  
“I dunno if you’ve looked recently, but you’ve done a lot of amazing things with your life.” ‘I’m glad at least someone feels that way’ he thought in his head. As if Harry could hear him, he said, “I’m being serious. It’s really impressive that you started your own architecture firm, and that’s an added bonus to who you are as a person.” They thought Louis was an admirable person? That couldn’t be right. He was a living, breathing example of ‘how to be a fuck up in your parents’ eyes’. That was not a quality to be admired by others for.  
“How can you be impressed by someone who’s living a constant lie? Every time I talk to my parents, I feel like shit. They know I’m gay, I’ve just never said it, so it technically isn’t true to them. My Dad’s convinced that it’s some sort of fucking phase and I know that he hopes it’s over, but he just…he always looks at me like he’s disappointed no matter what I do. I don’t know if I’d rather deal with that, or him looking at me like I’m some sort of scummy stranger who has a drug addiction if I did tell him; I don’t know if it’s better to have some sort of relationship with him rather than none at all.”  
“He wouldn’t abandon you; he’s your Dad.”  
“That’s blind optimism, Harry, and you know it. I’m doomed to an eternity of horrible relationships with fathers.”  
“No you’re not.”  
“No, I think I pretty much am. No matter what path I decide to go down, my Dad’s gonna resent me.” They stayed silent for a few moments, and Louis understood why; what could you possibly say to someone who you know has a father that resents them? There’s no ‘don’t worry, everything will work out fine in the end’. Instead, there’s only ‘sorry for your shitty situation that you’ll never get out of’ and Harry was far too kind to say anything along those lines.  
“If it means anything, my Dad liked you.” Louis’ head snapped up at that. This was big: Harry’s Dad liked him. It was a response to this situation that he hadn’t ever considered before. Leave it to Harry to stray away from the normal response. “He used to mention you at random times…if I’m being honest, it was kinda annoying and frustrating because he would never let you go. Everybody was compared to you. I swear his favorite phrase was ‘I liked Louis better’. When I told him that we met up again, he said that he always liked you the best.” Holy shit, this wasn’t just big, this was astronomical. Louis could barely process all of this new information. Harry’s Dad compared every guy Harry had been with to Louis, and he was Mr. Styles’ favorite up until the day he died. How did he manage to have this sort of influence on every Styles family member? What did he do to accomplish this? This wasn’t something he deserved. He was as shocked as he was baffled.  
“Why does your family like me so much?”  
“It’s easy to like you.” Louis scoffed at that. “It is: I’m serious. And you’ve always just fit in with my family. Not many people have that ability.”  
“Just because your family isn’t very conventional doesn’t mean that they’re difficult to get along with; people have an easier time getting along with your family than they do with mine.”  
“That’s not necessarily true.” Louis raised his eyebrows at Harry and tilted his head.  
“My parents could be some of the most traditional jackasses to ever grace this planet.” By the way Harry was scrunching his mouth, it was plain to see that he agreed, but didn’t want to verbally confirm it in fear of offending Louis’ parents. He was always a diplomat in that way. Louis didn’t know if he appreciated that or not right now.  
“Even if they don’t support you, you have a ton of people that do.” That had been Zayn and Liam’s argument as well. It never worked.  
“You only have one set of biological parents.” He said, his stomach churning in agreement. Having them abandon him was never an option because he would disown himself in doing so. Louis had never been able to stomach that thought.  
“You can’t live your life trying to please them, Louis. Live your own life. Don’t sacrifice yourself for someone else’s happiness.” Louis stared at his cup of tea once again. It was good advice and he knew that, but the debate between his happiness and sustaining a relationship with his family wasn’t an easy one to answer. There was no clear winner, which was probably why he felt so shitty all these years. Maybe it wasn’t just him trying to forget the affect Harry had on him all these years; it was him trying to forget the expectations he was held up to. ‘Forgetting’ Harry never made him happy, yet neither did him ‘forgetting’ his expectations. So, what was he supposed to do when he couldn’t ignore either one?  
“I’m trying.”  
“Don’t stop.” A few moments of silence passed while Louis finished his tea, and then Harry finally murmured under his breath, “til you get enough.”  
“You did not just say that.” Harry chuckled, “What happened to mister-I’m-trying-to-be-serious-stop-making-jokes?”  
“That wasn’t a joke, it was a reference.” Louis smiled and shook his head.  
“You’re such an idiot.”  
“A charming idiot.”  
“Whatever you say.”

 

Louis wasn’t sure if he was on a ship, but whatever it was kept dipping and he didn’t know why. It felt like he was in the middle of a storm at sea. And then, it suddenly stopped. His conscious knocked on his brain and told him that, no, he wasn’t in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean; he was on a mattress that kept moving for the past however many minutes because someone else kept twisting and turning, but the person was gone now, thus why the ‘boat’ stopped moving. Louis didn’t need his conscious to tell him that the person was Harry, nor did he need it to tell him why Harry couldn’t sleep. He grabbed his phone off of the bedside table and read that it was 1:08am. The bathroom door was open and the light was off, so Harry wasn’t in there. Louis’ body was warm and his legs were weak, but he needed to know where Harry was; he would have a hard time falling back asleep anyway knowing that Harry was probably in the middle of having an existential crisis. Besides, the bed was warmer and Louis was more content when Harry was in it, so that would also prevent him from sleeping. He grabbed his glasses from the bedside table and put them on, the night suddenly becoming a bit clearer. Then he forced his body to move and got out of the covers.  
The living room lights were shut off, as were the kitchen lights. He checked the couch just to see if Harry moved to try and sleep somewhere else, but he wasn’t there. Then he noticed that the front door was just barely jarred open and the porch light was on. He softly crept forward, his bare feet making the wooden floor panels creak, and lightly pushed the thin white curtains aside to look out of one of the windows. Harry’s silhouette was sitting on the top porch stair. Louis let out a sigh of relief that he didn’t know he was holding. He walked to the door and quietly opened it. Moths flocked around the porch light and kissed it with their entire bodies. Below it, Harry’s silhouette showed that he was hunched over with his face in his hands. And then he heard Harry’s quiet sniffling; Louis wasted no time in completely walking outside and sitting right next to him. He put his entire left arm around Harry’s body and tightly pulled him in.  
“Couldn’t sleep?”  
“I hate this.” Harry completely let himself go, his entire body falling into Louis’ lap and sobs wracking through his whole being. He was physically shaking. It felt like an Earthquake had erupted and trembled within his body. Louis leaned over so his head was resting on Harry’s back and held him tight, trying to force the quaking to stop.  
“Shhh, shhh, I’m here. You’re okay, I’m here. I’m not gonna let you go.” He pushed Harry’s hair up off of his neck and softly placed a short kiss there. That only seemed to make Harry cry harder, though. His sobs bounced off of the trees and echoed throughout the huge yard. Louis wanted to stop it, he wanted to fix it so badly, but he knew he couldn’t. With Harry this weak, devastated, and defenseless in his arms, Louis felt his own throat burning and tears welting up in his eyes. He wasn’t sure when Harry’s pain became his own, but maybe that was always the case.  
“Ev-veryth-hing feels like i-it’s c-crum-mpling and I c-can’t stop it.” Harry’s sobs intensified again. Louis ran his left hand up and down Harry’s back while he held Harry’s right thigh with his right hand. He held Harry as tightly as Harry held onto him; it felt like they were both gripping on for life, like if they let go, then the funeral would be for them. Louis’ shirt was thoroughly soaked by now, but he was willing to drown in the flood of a broken dam if it meant that Harry would be happy again. When the sobs began to die down, they were replaced with Harry muttering incoherent phrases into Louis’ stomach. Louis placed one more short peck on his neck before trying to lift him up.  
“C’mon, Haz, you need to sit up, take some deep breaths. I can’t hear you.” Harry obliged, and slowly lifted himself up, hands trying to wipe away the tears still streaming from his eyes and snot running from his nose. Louis took over, using his right hand to cup Harry’s cheek and turn it towards him, then using his thumb to wipe away the tears. Harry looked at Louis then, his eyes bloodshot yet completely breath-taking; it was like looking into a supernova. Harry held the cosmos in his eyes and he didn’t know it. He was easily the most awe-inspiring thing that Louis had ever seen, even if he was crying enough tears to fill up a 16-ounce water bottle. “C’mon, take a breath with me.” Louis took a dramatic breath in and Harry followed along, though his breath was much shorter and more ragged. “Good job. Let’s do another, okay?” They ended up doing three more, and by the last one, Harry’s breathing was moderately normal. The tears had yet to dissipate, but they were coming down like a moderate drizzle instead of a storm now, so Louis viewed it as a success. “What’s going on?”  
“F-f-four days be-before my D-Dad died, I talked to him o-on the phone. He t-told me-e that his pills for h-his high bl-lood pressure made him tired so-” Harry hiccupped a breath “-so he stopped taking them. I told hi-him to call hi-his doctor and he s-said he’d think about it. He never did. I cou-could’ve saved him. It’s my fault.” Louis’ heart broke hearing Harry say that; he couldn’t imagine what Harry’s heart must feel like. The tears came down like a waterfall once again and Harry crumpled forward into Louis’ chest as if he were trying to make a den for himself there. He didn’t need to, though, because he quickly found the one that Louis carved out only for Harry sixteen years ago. He never bothered to fill it up, and right now, that was a good thing.  
“Your Dad’s death isn’t your fault, don’t you dare try to blame that on yourself.”  
“He could b-be alive r-right now if I for-rced him.”  
“You don’t know that. This could’ve still happened even if he did take his pills.”  
“But he wasn–”  
“Harry, stop. This isn’t your fault. You have to stop putting blame on yourself. It’s not even true, for one, and two, it’s not healthy for you. Do you think your Dad would be okay with you thinking that?” Harry’s crying had cleared out for the most part now, the only thing that was still prevalent was the sniffles and occasional hiccupping for breaths.  
“No.” He meekly let out.  
“So stop. If not for your sake, then for his.”  
“But – ”  
“No buts. No ifs, ands, or maybes for that matter, too. You can’t remember your Dad in regret. That’s not what he would want, and that’s not how he should be remembered. You need to remember him in the light, not the dark. Think of the times that make you happy, think of the things that made you and your Dad’s relationship as strong as it is.” Harry lifted his head up and leaned it on Louis’ left shoulder. Louis put his right hand back on Harry’s thigh and lifted up his left hand to groom through Harry’s hair. He massaged his scalp, and Harry’s head lolled with the motions of Louis’ hand. They sat like that for a few moments, and Louis simply stayed there while Harry gained back a bit of his composure. Finally, Harry quietly whispered,  
“All I can think about is what could I have done – how could I have been a better son?” Louis was genuinely confused as to how Harry could think that he could’ve been a better son.  
“Hazza, you need to stop dwelling on things that you wish you could’ve changed. You and your Dad had such a strong relationship, possibly the best father-son relationship I’ve ever seen. You have to know that he would never change a thing about you. He was – is – proud of you. He is so proud of you.” Harry skeptically looked up at Louis with a pout. “I’m gonna tell you an opinion that I know your Dad and I have in common: you turned out to be one hell of a son.” Harry turned his head away.  
“You’re just saying that.”  
“Why would I lie to you? Hey, Haz, look at me,” Harry turned his head up and looked at Louis once again. He waited until their eyes were locked together before repeating, “Why would I lie to you? You’re the only person in this World that I could never lie to; even if my life depended on it, I still wouldn’t be able to do it.” Harry’s eyebrows pointed inwards like a sad puppy. “I wouldn’t. You know that.” This time, Harry tucked his head into the space between Louis’ shoulder and his neck. He looked up at the night sky, and Louis followed his lead. The sky was black, but magnificent little white, radiating, specks of all different sizes decorated it. Louis couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked up at the sky to be greeted with an abundance of stars. Crickets chirped their sweet ‘cher-o cher-o cher-o’s, the trees slowly swept around and rustled their leaves together, and the wind softly wisped about their bodies.  
“What do you think happens?” Harry quietly asked.  
“When…?”  
“When we die…where do we go?” Louis leaned his head to rest on the side of Harry’s and moved his left hand down to his waist so he could wrap Harry up and pull him closer into his own body.  
“I’m not sure…I’d like to think that our soul can come back anytime it wants, so it can still be with the ones that it loves.” Louis focused on Harry’s soft in and out-takes of breaths.  
“You think they’re still around?” Harry moved his right hand down on top of Louis’ and let it rest there. Louis loved the way Harry’s hand molded over his own.  
“I don’t think our loved ones ever really leave us.” Harry sighed.  
“I just wish I knew where he physically is. I keep thinking about it, and the more I do, the more I realize each time that I’m never gonna be able to see him, or talk to him, or just…hug him again. I’m never gonna be able to hug my Dad again.” Harry’s voice cracked. Louis lifted his fingers up to entwine them with Harry’s. “Do you believe in Heaven?” Honestly, Louis was surprised that this was the first time Harry had ever asked him the question. At least now, unlike sixteen years ago, he had an answer. And he was ready to answer. Louis squeezed their hands together and nosed the top of Harry’s head.  
“I’d like to believe that there’s some sort of nice place we go to when we die…not necessarily Heaven, but a place where you can be happy.”  
“I’d like to believe that too…I just want to know that he’s okay, wherever he is.” Louis sighed, and rested his chin on Harry’s head.  
“I wish I had a definite answer for you, but I don’t, which is probably one of the worst things about death. It makes us feel like we’re left in the dark without any sense of direction. But I guess that’s what makes life…life. How would we be able to fully appreciate it if there wasn’t the threat of it being taken away? Death makes life beautiful. I mean, just look at the stars: the majority of them are dead. Stars are just like us; they’re born, they live, and they die. They’re mortal. But without them, the sky would only be a black expanse with no end, or awe, or wonder.” He paused for a moment and looked at the stars. They were beautiful, but they were nothing compared to the light in Harry’s eyes. He squeezed Harry’s hand. “So yeah, when people say that it’s better to have lived and died than to have not lived at all, they’re right. We’re made up of star dust, after all.” Harry looked up at Louis with a slight, proud smile.  
“When did you become such a poet?” Louis brought his left hand up to push the hair out of Harry’s face.  
“I had a lot of time to think.” Harry moved forward a bit and then repositioned their bodies so his back was lying against Louis’ chest, his head tucked into the expanse under Louis’ neck. Louis wrapped his hands around both sides of Harry’s body, and Harry moved both of his hands so they were holding onto both of Louis’.  
“I feel like a part of myself died with him…like, I’m missing a chunk of me.” Louis didn’t know how to properly respond to that. Harry began to play with their connected fingers, as if he were trying to intently observe and remember the sight and the feeling just as Louis had always done when they were younger.  
“Well…there’s this saying that when you die, you’re born into eternity. But you can’t live and be in eternity at the same time…so maybe you feel like you’re missing that piece of you because it went into eternity with him. It’s like a rebirth, in that way.”  
“Maybe.” Harry sighed and muzzled his head back further into Louis’ body. “Do you actually believe in eternity?”  
“I don’t see why not.”  
“It’s such a vast concept.”  
“That’s because it’s infinite time; when time is infinite, there’s no need to keep track of it.”  
“What about personal knowledge?”  
“Well yeah, I’m not saying that you can’t do it, I’m saying that time isn’t counting up or down to anything: it just is, so let it be.” They stayed like that for a few moments. Louis closed his eyes and took in the feel of everything; the way their bodies were melded together as one, the sounds of the night, and this conversation that he couldn’t imagine having with anyone else.  
“You think we spend eternity with our family?” He opened his eyes.  
“Mhmm. Well, family meaning anybody you love, whether that be bloodline, friendship, or love in the purest sense of the word.”  
“You’ll be in my eternity, then.” Louis’ stomach was transformed into the porch light, and all the moths were fluttering around in it, jumping in glee, dancing in joy, and kissing in ecstasy. Harry loved him. Which sense of the word had yet to be determined, but Harry just said that he loved him. Louis couldn’t contain the huge grin that broke out on his face. He didn’t even care if Harry saw it.  
“You’ll be in mine, too.”  
“We can be eternity-mates.” Louis squeezed their hands together.  
“I like that.” Harry squeezed his hand back.  
“Me too.” 

 

Louis settled for wearing his glasses that day. He was in the bathroom trying to make his hair look acceptable and decided to use Harry’s hair gel for reinforcement. There was no need to ask at this point because it had been an unspoken agreement that what was one was the other’s as well. Once he was done, he looked at himself in the mirror, flattened out his black suit jacket, and straightened the black tie. There were moderately dark circles under his eyes, but they were to be expected as due to the lack of sleep. He deemed himself presentable.  
Walking into their room, Louis found Harry standing in front of the mirror, silently observing himself. His eyes were blank, and his body looked lifeless. Louis could barely recognize Harry, and he hated that. He walked so he was in the view of the mirror and Harry could see him, even though he was standing behind him. Harry’s reflection showed a somber man, his face completely shattered. Louis was barely able to stand seeing him like that. When their gazes focused on each other, Louis stuck his tongue out at Harry, and a weary, drained out smiled appeared on Harry’s face. It was better than no smile at all.  
Louis walked forward and put his hands on Harry’s shoulders, pushing them so Harry turned around and was facing Louis. He moved his focus to Harry’s collar, which he folded up and then flattened down. He brought his attention to Harry’s suit itself and brushed off the shoulders and arms of any lint. Finally, he put his fingers around the thin black tie, delicately tightened it, and then let go.  
“I don’t think I can do this.” Harry quietly admitted.  
“You can.” Harry scrunched up his mouth in disagreement. Louis knew he needed to do a bit more persuading. “Besides, I just checked and all the flights to Mexico are sold out, so we can’t run away.” Harry wetly chuckled.  
“You always make me laugh even when I’m not happy. How do you do that?”  
“Magic, clearly.” Harry looked down at his feet that were, unsurprisingly, pointed inwards. Louis reached down and clasped their hands together. “Hey, you can do this.” He told him much more softly. “I know you can. I have all the faith in the World in you.” Harry’s eyebrows scrunched together.  
“Why?” Why? Louis could go on a spree about why. He could write a senior thesis on why. Hell, he could probably write an entire encyclopedia entitled ‘Why I Believe in Harry Styles’. But there wasn’t nearly enough time for that, and Louis knew that right now, all Harry needed was short, sweet, simple, and straight to the point.  
“Because you never cease to amaze me on a daily basis. You always have. Even when we were in seventh grade and you thought you could steal my chicken nugget without me noticing.” The corners of Harry’s mouth slightly raised.  
“I remember that.”  
“It was the great cafeteria fight of ninety-three, how could you not?” Harry looked up at Louis and his face was full of gratitude.  
“Thank you.”  
“Don’t thank me, you were the one who spurred it.”  
“No, I mean…for always being there. In my life. Thank you.” ‘Always’ was a strong word considering they had left each other’s lives for sixteen years; but then again, they never really did leave, did they? Maybe it had always been ‘always’.  
“Thanks for keeping me.”  
Louis did the only thing he could think of and pulled him in for a hug.

 

Louis knew there were a lot people Mr. Styles had relationships with based off of the amount of flowers and the cooked meals in the garbage. But he didn’t actually know just how many that was.  
Apparently, for every piece of food or flower, there were ten faces behind it.  
The wake was supposed to start at 9am and go until 11am, at which time everybody would proceed to the church. Yet, the line kept coming through. There were the current neighbors, the Norwegian neighbors, the town pastor, the town pastor’s church, the people who worked at the local supermarket, the people who worked at the local community college library where he donated money to, country club friends, country club acquaintances, old country club friends, golf friends, real estate partners, investment partners, business colleagues, business colleagues from years and years ago, retired executives, current executives, old college buddies, new retirement buddies, extremely extended family, people who had no known affiliation to Mr. Styles, and, of course, his immediate family. Louis was in shock by how many faces there were, how many random faces Harry had to say ‘thank you’ to, and how many people were still dwindling in when 11am came. His body wasn’t even in the coffin, it was just a picture of him; he was being cremated. Yet people still wanted to say goodbye. Louis hated how quiet the small room was; even though it was packed with people, the only sound resonating about were that of whispers, crying, and nose blowing. He kept his eye on Harry the majority of the time. Harry didn’t shed one tear. In fact, he’d put on his stone cold façade. Louis figured that he probably didn’t know the majority of these people anyway, so that made it a bit easier. Rita, on the other hand, had seemed to have known everybody, and for the first time, Louis saw her actually cry. Harry had been the one to immediately comfort her each time, even if it was as little as putting a hand on her back.  
They left for the church at 11:30am. And when they arrived in the black SUV that was instructed to drop them off in front of the church, there wasn’t a clear place where that could happen. No parking space existed, so the car stopped in the middle of the street, and in the middle of the street was where Louis was instructed to join Harry, Robin, and three other men who he was told were some of Mr. Style’s closest friends to carry the coffin into the church. Nobody made room for the family, they flocked around them with hopes of giving the best condolence speech, but once the coffin was brought out, a clear pathway was formed. Harry barely even spared a glance at Louis before they assumed their positions and finished the procession by bringing the coffin into the church. Louis severely underestimated how heavy an empty coffin would be; he was glad that there wasn’t a body in it.  
The church itself was exquisite. Stone pillars with carved out decorative patterns were sporadically placed throughout the sixty pews on the bottom floor and held up the ceiling, which must’ve been about three stories high. The top floor held twenty more pews and the organ. The ceilings were arched and made out of furnished wood that criss-crossed in a weaved pattern. The walls were grey stone varnished with solid gold trims, and each window had its own stained glass portrait.  
Louis had the privilege of sitting down in the front pew with the Styles-Twist family. It was a small relief because there was no other open spot in the building, but he was a bit confused because he wasn’t family. He made no argument against it, but still felt a pang of deceptiveness when the priest pointed to the Styles family in his speech and Louis was included in it. It also made his heart race when their entire row held hands and he was the one finishing it out on the end.  
He felt like he belonged. He felt like he was included in a true family.  
It was during the priest’s speech that Louis began to daze off and focused on the major stained glass window of the birth of Jesus behind the alter. There was a white and yellow halo behind both his head, Mary’s, and God’s, who was looking down at them from up above. Louis had to admit that it was gorgeous, yet he found himself asking, ‘how does that instill the belief that gay people are evil?’ His parents had spent their entire lives in the church, and he had even spent the majority of his childhood there. However, there was nothing written on the walls that screamed why gay people’s souls were as unable to be saved as a murderer’s was. The only thing he saw projected was ‘look at how beautiful these stories are’. There was nothing about ‘you must be straight’ written on these walls, so why did his parents condemn him so much for it? He didn’t understand. Granted, Louis had completely lost his faith of religion when he was in his twenties because how could a God be so cruel as to convince his parents that their child was a fuck up who needed to be saved before he could ever properly be loved? If Jesus stressed the importance of toleration and love, then why was Louis being rejected for loving someone? Louis didn’t understand the hypocrisy, and it was only now that he realized he could never live a happy life if he was always viewed as ‘eternally damned’. He knew that wasn’t the case, but he also knew that his parents would never agree with him.  
There was no common ground.  
Looking at the window, he knew there never would be, and he knew he had to stop searching for it because it didn’t exist.  
Then Harry was called up to the microphone and Louis was brought back into the current situation at hand. Harry went up with his notebook in hand. He tapped on the microphone and cleared his throat. Louis’ leg was bouncing up and down, and he realized that he might be more nervous watching Harry give his speech than Harry was giving it.  
“Good afternoon. Thank you all for being here, it umm…it means a lot.” He looked down at the notebook sitting on the stand, then back up at the entire church. “I tried writing something for this, but, ummm…I don’t think I did a very good job. So I’m just gonna talk instead.” Harry was going free-range on this? Yeah, Louis was definitely more nervous for Harry than Harry was right now. “My Dad wasn’t one to sit down and let life pass him by. He always focused on his relationships with every person he met. He gave one hundred and ten percent of himself into every relationship he had, and that’s evident by all of you here right now. So thank you.  
“For those of you that don’t know, my Dad was thirty-eight when I was born, and he was just beginning his position at the executive branch of BP. Starting a family wasn’t exactly the first thing on his mind. He wasn’t very involved in my life when I was a kid, but that was because he was always abroad. He made sure I was taken care of, though. He’d spend his vacation time taking me on a trip, and the only framed picture on his desk was of the two of us at the beach. I didn’t see him much, but he was there. I kinda viewed him like an idol…I always knew he was important and I just…I wanted to be someone who commanded respect like he did.  
“When I was a teenager, I was given the opportunity to spend the summer abroad with him in Norway practically every year, and those summers are some of the best memories I have with him. I got to know him as a person, and yes, that includes all of the jokes he’d play on me. One time he convinced me that lutefisk was the Norwegian form of jello. For those of you that don’t know, lutefisk is actually fish prepared in lye. I didn’t know this at the time and almost choked while trying to swallow my first, and coincidentally, my last bite. Apparently he played that trick on everyone who visited him. He was quite a practical joker.  
“Our relationship took on a more intense and mature one than I’d ever known before. He always put my needs before his, and never once complained about how I complained all the time. He accepted me when I came out as gay. In fact, he not only accepted me, but he tried to play my wingman. It was as awkward as it was funny. He always supported me no matter what I did or what path I decided to go down. I realize now that that’s not something everybody has the privilege of, and I am so grateful for it.  
“My Dad visited me a lot when I was studying at Penn. He met the majority of my friends, and actually became close with a few of my professors. It was in college that we started calling each other every week, and I like to think that that’s when he really became a father to me. He stopped being so much of a friend, and became much more than that.  
“I’m thankful for my time with him. I’m thankful for his jokes. I’m thankful for his crazy Oscar ballads that he’d always manage to win every year. I’m thankful for all of those homemade breakfasts’. I’m thankful for him teaching me how to whistle. I’m thankful for him giving me a quiz after I read each of his favorite classics, especially To Kill a Mockingbird. I’m thankful for our weekly phone conversations. I’m thankful for his support. I’m thankful for his love. I love him. I always will.”

 

The luncheon was at the local country club that Mr. Styles belonged to. Louis tried talking to Harry, but he was making his rounds to thank people when they weren’t continuously mobbing him. Most of Louis’ time was spent sitting next to and talking to Gemma, but when he went to get food after everyone else had filled up their plate’s, he found Alma, who seemed to have the same idea as him of avoiding the line. He insisted that she go through the buffet first, and while waiting, his eyes scanned for Harry. He found him talking to a couple who had to be in their sixties. Harry must’ve felt Louis’ gaze, because he looked through the space of the couple and his eyes met Louis’. Louis’ stomach flipped, but he kept staring.  
“You’re in love.”  
“What?” Louis’ focus snapped onto Alma, who had a smug, warm smile on her face.  
“You look at him in the way that you only look at someone who you’re in love with.” Louis was speechless. He didn’t know what to say. There was nothing he could say. He couldn’t deny it, because this family could easily call him out on his bullshit whenever they wanted to. But he couldn’t affirm it because…well, he couldn’t. “He looks at you like that too.”  
And then she walked away leaving Louis flabbergasted and completely incoherent. 

 

Harry spent the majority of the evening in his Mom’s arms.  
He spent the night in Louis’.  
Even when he woke up at 3am in a panic attack with sweat covering his body, his lungs barely able to take deep breaths, and tears streaming from his eyes, he was still in Louis’ arms. He latched onto Harry and didn’t let go. They silently stayed up together for almost an hour until Harry fell asleep again. It wasn’t until Louis was sure that Harry was fast asleep that he drifted off into the night. 

 

When Louis woke up, Harry wasn’t in bed, which he wasn’t all that much surprised about. It was becoming an annoying trend, but he understood it; Harry had way too much on his mind and too many things to do to waste his time sleeping. Nonetheless, Louis still felt the urge to find Harry and make sure he was okay. He got up to brush his teeth before venturing, but he was immediately graced with hearing Harry’s voice coming from the living room.  
“Mike…Mike……Michael!” Alright so Harry was talking to fucking Michael on the phone and his tone didn’t seem happy in the least bit. Louis wasn’t about to go into the living room, but…he also wasn’t not going to listen. He wanted to know what was going on in that relationship. So sue him. “Are you seriously accusing me of this?” What was he accusing Harry of? Also, it was 7:15 in the morning, why was he accusing Harry of doing something this early? Only an idiot would do that. Never pick a battle in the morning unless the goal was to have a shitty day. Wait. Bigger picture here: Harry and Michael were fighting. “………you’ve gotta be kidding me……I’m not denying it because there’s nothing to deny! I wouldn’t do that…………do you not trust me?…Don’t bring him into this.” Louis had a sinking feeling in his gut that this conversation was about him. “How do you have the audacity to accuse me of cheating on you, call my best friend a piece of shit,” His suspicion was right: Michael was accusing Harry on cheating with Louis. Detective skills were unnecessary to figure that one out, “and not even bother to ask me about my Dad’s funeral, which was fucking great, by the way. Not like you would know, because you haven’t bothered to call once – ……I was busy! I’ve been busy this entire time!……You clearly have no idea nor do you care about what I’ve been doing. You haven’t supported me once. You know what you do instead? You turn my Dad’s funeral into a fuck fest, and the only thing you’re concerned about is yourself. If you’re having any doubts about our relationship, tell me now……I clearly am? Am I really?……Michael, I can’t – I can’t do this right now. I’ll talk to you later.” The room went silent.  
Shit. That was an intense argument.  
It was an argument about Louis.  
At least he now knew for certain that fucking Michael saw him as a threat. And Michael apparently thought that Harry was having doubts about their relationship.  
Well then.  
Louis didn’t want to make it obvious that he’d been listening this entire time by conveniently walking out into the living room right after Harry hung up the phone. Instead, he spent a solid four minutes brushing his teeth and then briefly checked his email before walking out. Harry was in the kitchen; he was unaware that Louis had walked out because he kept opening and slamming the top of the coffee maker shut. His mind wasn’t currently in the room.  
“Morning.” Harry startled backwards and snapped his head around. He looked Louis up and down, as if he were examining him, before exhaling a short, deep breath.  
“Hi.” Harry was now fumbling with the coffee maker. His rage about the conversation he just had with Michael was evident in his unstill hands. “Coffee?”  
“Yeah, please.”  
“M’kay.” He started the machine, reached up for one of the cabinets, aggressively yanked it open and pulled out two mugs.  
“Everything okay? You seem a bit, ummm, skittish.”  
“Yeah, I’m…yeah.” Harry gently closed the cabinets and leaned his body against the counter. He looked at Louis, then cynically chucked to himself while looking down. His arms were crossed, and it looked like he was trying to hug himself. “Michael just accused me of cheating on him.” He said as casually as someone relaying a story that they’d just read in the newspaper, but weren’t actually interested in. Louis didn’t know if he should be happy that Harry told him that or not. On one hand, it showed that Harry was open and willing to talk about anything with Louis. On the other hand, well…he didn’t want to talk about the triangle that was apparent between the three of them. But at this point it looked like there was no other option.  
“With…me?” Harry nodded and bit his bottom lip. Louis tried to act like this was his first time hearing the news. “What? That’s insane!” Harry nodded once again. He didn’t say anything, neither an agreement nor a disagreement. He decided not to try and interpret that. Maybe Louis’ curiosity would kill him, but he needed to know: “Why does he think that?” Harry shrugged.  
“It’s my fault, really. I’ve been spending more of my free time with you recently than with him. And now there’s this whole thing, which I guess he just saw as…well, yeah.” Louis understood perfectly. A ‘fuck fest’. Which it wasn’t, not in the least bit, but Michael didn’t think that. “I mean, you actually knew my Dad though, and I kinda knew you would come. Whenever I ask him to come somewhere with me it’s always ‘sorry, can’t take off from work’ or a horribly put together excuse. This is something I actually needed someone I can depend on for and I can’t depend on him.” Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be venting about this to you.”  
“It’s fine.” Harry stopped elaborating on his relationship problems. Louis didn’t know if he appreciated that more or less. Now he knew the degree of how many problems there really were in that relationship, though. He couldn’t say ‘you should break up with him’, but he also didn’t want to give Harry any advice because he didn’t want their relationship to be fixed. Yes, it was selfish as fuck, but Louis had always been a jealous person. And Harry was his boy, not Michael’s. He always had been. Louis knew that he could give Harry so much more and make him happier than Michael could, so maybe by not giving him advice, he was helping him. Maybe. Or maybe not.  
Shit. He needed to be a good friend.  
“Do you want me to, like…talk to him?”  
“Thanks, but I think that would probably make things worse, to be honest. And you shouldn’t be getting involved in the first place. This is between me and him. I’m just mad now that there’s another thing I have to deal with on top of all of this shit already. Especially at seven am. What a perfect way to wake up.”  
“I’m pretty sure coffee was invented specifically for this reason.”  
“To avoid shitty situations?”  
“More like to gain the energy to deal with them. That’s how I justify my addiction.”  
“Always have a good justification.”  
“Exactly.”

 

“Umm, so I thought that I’d read one of Dad’s favorite poems.” Harry said. The burial ceremony was small: just everybody who was currently staying at the house and a few close family friend’s of Mr. Styles. Louis was currently standing in between Alma and Gemma. The sun was out, and the breeze was almost nonexistent. The burial spot was under an oak tree, so it would be shaded most of the time. The priest held the black, golden trimmed box of ashes in his hands. “It’s Invictus, by William Ernest Henley. He used to read it to me when I was a kid, so…I hope I don’t screw it up too badly.” That got a slight chuckle out of a few people. “This one’s for you, Dad.” Harry looked down at the piece of paper in his hand. “Out of the night that covers me, black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance my head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears looms but the horror of the shade, and yet the menace of the years finds, and shall find, me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.”

 

Louis has never really been a snooper.  
Sort of.  
He only does it when he’s concerned about the well-being of someone he loves. And he was concerned about Harry that night.  
Ever since he excused himself ten minutes ago and went out on the porch to “call someone” Louis was uneasy. He assumed that Harry was talking to Michael, and he was worried about Harry because if the conversation was anything like the one this morning, then good things surely weren’t coming out of it. However, this was taking much longer than the conversation this morning. And Louis hated not knowing what was going on. It put him on edge, both emotionally and physically since his body was on the edge of the bed, not knowing if the argument had been resolved or not. If it was, then Harry and Michael were still together. If it wasn’t, then there was a chance that Harry and Michael would break up in the next few days. Louis was about to pray for the latter because it would be better for Harry, and it would be better for Michael, and it would be better for Louis, and basically the entire Universe. Well, not the entire Universe, but definitely Louis and Harry’s Universe.  
So yeah, he was concerned because this conversation could change the trajectory of his life. And that makes it very difficult to sit still.  
He decided to take a stroll into the kitchen and make a cup of tea. Tea was calming. And he might be able to hear part of the conversation, but that was beside the point.  
Or the entire point.  
Formalities, really.  
Harry had completely left the front door open, which Louis didn’t mind because there was only a bit of a draft. It was aggravatingly easy to hear Harry talking on the phone, even if he was speaking quietly. Louis could perfectly comprehend what he was saying.  
“I just – help me Niall.” Harry dramatically whined. Oh, so he was talking to Niall, not Michael. That was…not what Louis expected. At all. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” He was calling Niall to ask for advice? On what? What did Harry need advice for that he couldn’t ask Louis? “……well, no. Part of the reason I brought him here was to see if I still…” Harry didn’t finish his sentence. He was talking about Louis. Harry was getting advice from Niall about Louis…? “Yeah.” Another pause. Why did Harry need advice about Louis? They were…they were just them. Everything was going well, wasn’t it? Louis hadn’t messed anything up, had he? Was there something wrong in their relationship? Was there something Louis was unaware of? Because with the way these past few days, and hell, this past month had been going, things were looking up. Things were looking better than up. Things were finally right. Were they not right for Harry?  
Why was his heart pounding against his ribcage like a jackhammer pounding against concrete?  
“I don’t love him. I’m not in love with him. I guess I tricked myself into thinking I was, but, as bad as I feel to admit it, I’m not. I don’t think I ever really was.”  
That was why.  
Holy shit.  
When did this…why did this…what?  
Harry didn’t……what?  
Louis’ legs felt like jello. They were threatening to collapse underneath of him. His entre World was threatening to collapse from underneath of him. Just when everything started to feel complete and where it was supposed to be…how was this possible? His hands were shaking, he went light-headed, he couldn’t…this couldn’t be real.  
Could it?  
Yes, it could. Harry just said those words to Niall. About Louis.  
‘I don’t love him.’  
Holy shit, he needed to get out of here.  
His body went on autopilot and he found himself in the bedroom, sitting down on the bed with his mind blank.  
And then he remembered the words again.  
‘I don’t love him.’  
‘I’m not in love with him.’  
‘I tricked myself into thinking I was.’  
‘I don’t think I ever really was.’  
Louis felt the tears coming out of his eyes, because how?  
How did this happen? How did he spend his life chasing the unattainable? How was this the thing that these past two months had led up to? How had Louis become this misled? How did Louis think he stood a chance? How did Louis believe that he and Harry could have a future together? How was this incomprehensible disappointment his reality?  
He couldn’t understand it.  
Louis needed to stop thinking. He needed to shut his mind off, and he needed to shut it off now.  
He turned the light off in the room and buried himself underneath of the covers.  
He shut off his conscious, he stopped crying, and he closed his eyes.  
He wasn’t sure how long it’d been when he heard Harry come in.  
“Lou?” Harry whispered. Louis didn’t move a muscle. “Louis, are you awake?” Yes, he was awake. No, he wasn’t going to let Harry know that because then that’d mean he’d have to look at Harry and talk to Harry and…Harry.  
‘I don’t love him.’  
He couldn’t do it. Not right now. He wasn’t strong enough to do it right now. Louis heard Harry sigh and felt the bed dip as he got in. He tried to pretend he was a rock. He tried to pretend he felt nothing. He tried to pretend he was okay.  
“Night, Lou.”  
Silent tears came out of Louis’ eyes even though they were closed.  
He wasn’t okay.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody!!
> 
> I know I'm late, I'm sorry, but I completely underestimated just how intensive this chapter would be to write. That being said, this has easily been my favorite chapter to write thus far, and I think you'll all understand why after reading it.
> 
> Once again, I thoroughly have to thank you all for being so supportive of me, not only as a writer, but as a person. Your generosity, interest, and concern is appreciated a million times over. Sometimes you leave comments that bring tears to my eyes and I seriously can't thank you enough for the encouragement you've given me. If it weren't for you, this story would've been abandoned a long time ago. Someone once told me, "Inspiration is easy, motivation is the difficult part." Honestly, you're all the driving force to my motivation. You make me strive to do my best, and I hope that you're all pleased with the result.
> 
> A few quick notes before you dive in:
> 
> ** Regardless of your religious denomination, please go into this chapter (*advanced notice for the next one too*) with an open mind. I'm well aware that religion is a sensitive topic, but it's essential to the plot line of this story. My goal is to get you in the minds of these characters and understand them, not to offend anyone.
> 
> ** I edited the last few songs of the 8tracks playlist. All the songs are either mentioned in this story directly or hinted at indirectly, so I seriously recommend checking it out. The last two songs pertain to the last chapter, though, so I don't expect you to fully understand them until 19 is up. Here's the link:
> 
> http://8tracks.com/evancalous/to-destroy-a-dam
> 
> ** I got a tumblr! Come talk to me at http://evancalousity.tumblr.com :)  
> I also have a progress update on there, so if you're ever wondering when 19 will be up, you can check to see how far along I am in writing it. I'm not making any promises on when it'll be completed, but I promise it will be completed.
> 
> ** If you like this story, I have a request for you: please help spread it around!! Recommend it to a friend, post about it, mention it in conversation with your parents (but not actually...unless you really want to), anything! My goal is to get this up to 350 kudos before I update the last chapter, so please, help me get there!
> 
> Thank you all once again for your undying love and support for this story, the characters, and myself. I love reading your comments, so please feel free to leave them!! I live for hearing from you all!! I'm leaving you with one last note:
> 
> Holy Character Development B@tman!!!!
> 
> Happy reading :)

“Not hungry?”  
“Hmm?” Louis forced his eyes out of a hypnotizing trance and onto Gemma’s observing gaze. He realized that he’d spent the better part of the past few minutes flattening his scrambled eggs with the bottom of his fork and looking at nothing in particular. His mind had blanked out. That barely ever happened, but it was better to have no thoughts than to contemplate what Harry said about him last night. The same phrases were stuck on a constant loop in his mind. It was like being at a shitty Chinese restaurant that only played the same three songs over and over and over again. ‘I don’t love him.’ ‘I’m not in love with him.’ ‘I don’t think I ever really was.’ ‘I don’t love him.’ ‘I’m not in love with him.’ ‘I don’t think I ever really – ’  
“You’ve barely eaten anything.” Fuck. He seriously needed to snap out of this.  
“Yeah…yeah, sorry.” Wait, why did he just apologize? Damn it; that was a Harry mannerism he didn’t need to pick up.  
“You zoned out.” Gemma stated. Louis wasn’t going to disagree with it.  
“It happens.”  
“Any particular reason behind it?” Gemma was feigning innocence, eyes wide and blinking. She was obviously digging for information that Louis wasn’t willing to give.  
“Because it just happened.”  
“It does…” Louis immediately spotted her tactic of edging him on to admitting the truth. He’d fallen for it one too many times with Lottie, so he’d gained immunity to that strategy by now. He stayed silent and ate his eggs instead. “Are you tired?”  
“Ummm…I guess.”  
“No sleep?” Considering he spent a good two hours lying perfectly still debating his life before he finally fell asleep last night, woke up from a nightmare where he was in front of a moving train unable to move any of his limbs at 5am then couldn’t fall back asleep after he felt Harry’s cold feet nudged in between his own, begun to debate his life until 7am when he couldn’t take it anymore, and finally took a shower to try and decompress, yeah, he was tired. Really fucking tired.  
“Sort of.”  
“Morning, Gem, Louis.” Against his better judgment, Louis looked up to see Harry walk into the dining room. He had just taken a shower, so his hair was wet and slicked back, and he was wearing a light blue button down shirt with tight white shorts that framed the outline of his long legs. Louis wanted to bang his head on the table because Harry shouldn’t be allowed to be this attractive and just fuck his life, really. How was he supposed to deal with this?  
“Gumby.” Harry sat himself down on the chair to Gemma’s other side.  
“When did that become your favorite name for me?”  
“It suits you well.”  
“Should I be offended by that?” Gemma shrugged.  
“If you want to be.” The three of them sat at the table eating their food in a comfortable silence. Louis forced his mind to rest and forget about those phrases Harry said last night for the time being. He focused entirely on shoveling the eggs into his mouth. “So…why were you two up all night?” Louis’ head snapped up and Harry was looking at him with puzzled eyes.  
“What?” They both asked at the same time.  
“You said you didn’t get much sleep.”  
“You didn’t?” Harry asked.  
“That’s not what I said, I – what does Harry have to do with that?”  
“You’re sharing a room so I just assumed you were doing something…”  
“We weren’t doing anything.” Louis declared a bit viciously. He was in panic mode. What the hell did she assume they were doing? And now what did Harry think he told Gemma? Why was his life like stepping into one pothole after the other? Thankfully he’d always been good at lying, so it wasn’t too difficult to get out of this corner. “I got a migraine in the middle of the night so it was hard to fall back asleep.”  
“Oh.” Gemma said almost as if she was disappointed by his answer. What answer was she hoping for? “Do you still have it?” He was going to get one if this conversation didn’t end soon,  
“No, I’m fine.”  
“Are you sure?” Harry asked. The only look on his face was the pure need to help. Louis felt guilty that he was unintentionally bringing out the doctor in Harry, but it was sweet of him to want to help nonetheless…even if it was for a fake migraine. At least he cared about Louis’ well being. “I can get you some Advil or – ”  
“I’m fine. I promise.”  
“How long were you up for?”  
“I don’t know.” That was a lie: he was running on five hours of sleep right now.  
“You should’ve woken me up.” He sounded a bit offended. God, why did Harry have to make everything in Louis’ life difficult? “I could’ve given you something.”  
“I didn’t wanna wake you up.”  
“You would’ve gotten more sleep.”  
“You would’ve gotten less.”  
“I would’ve been fine – ”  
“You’re like an old married couple, I swear.” Gemma muttered under her breath. Harry immediately looked away from Louis and neither of them said a word. Well, Gemma was certainly full of phrases to make his life difficult today. He still couldn’t figure out was if she was randomly saying these things, or if they had meaning behind them. Thinking back on all of the interrogating questions she’d asked him in the past few days, though, he was definitely beginning to think she was on to something. She broke the silence once again. “I slept fine, in case you were wondering.”  
“I wasn’t.” Gemma elbowed Harry in the side. “Heeeey, that hurt.”  
“No it didn’t.”  
“How would you know? You’re not me.”  
“I’m your sister.”  
“That’s not how siblings work.”  
“Says who?”  
“People with common sense.” Hearing their conversations reminded Louis of his relationship with Lottie that he was taken back by it at times. Louis was minorly astounded by how much they acted like siblings, especially given their age difference. He never would’ve imagined Harry as this involved of an older brother when they were younger, but it seamlessly aligned into Louis’ perception of him; he was suited to be the concerned, caring, and playful older brother that he was. Louis hoped that Harry would keep the tight relationship he had with Gemma and not let them grow away like Louis had with Lottie.  
“Fine. You say that and I’ll stick to my theory.”  
“Your theory?” Harry asked with monotonous sarcasm.  
“That I know what you’re thinking.”  
“Oh yeah?” Harry challenged, “What am I thinking?” Gemma leaned forward and looked Harry up and down before stating:  
“I hope my ass looks good in these shorts.” Louis erupted in laughter while Harry’s face flushed a bright red.  
“What? No I’m not!” He rushed out with a forced airy laugh.  
“Why else would you wear tight white shorts?”  
“Because I like them?”  
“It’s fine to want to look good. It’s working, right, Louis?” Gemma briefly glanced at Louis and winked, trying to get him to play in. Alright, she was definitely trying to accomplish something by saying these things. He shortly debated on whether or not it’d be smart to get involved with the conversation, but at this point, he really had no other option  
“Yeah.” He truthfully agreed. Harry bit his bottom lip.  
“See: the shorts are effective.” Gemma was right. The shorts were working on Harry and would do some serious damage to Louis if he thought about them…fuck, now he was thinking about them. Gemma lifted up her empty glass. “I need more juice, I’ll be right back.” She got up out of her seat and Louis took the opportunity to use the empty space as a viewing window to Harry’s legs. The shorts rode up when he sat down, so they currently ended about half way up his thigh. Louis could discern the short, light brown leg hair on his skin, which he very much wanted to run his hands over. Harry’s thighs were the perfect combination of muscle and fat; Louis could easily picture them tensing up as they wrapped around Louis’ torso while –  
“Sorry about her.” ‘Look away’ he told himself. He quickly averted his eyes up to Harry’s face and tried his best to not show that he just spent the past few seconds ogling his legs.  
“It’s okay.” Harry sighed a smiled, shook his head, and focused on his plate.  
“She’s always been blunt, explains it as being a catalyst for change or something stupid like that.”  
“That’s a little sister for you.” Harry nodded. Louis wanted to look away, but he was still stuck on the fucking shorts. He needed to get off of the topic, but at this point the only way to do that was to address them. He could continue to elaborate on Gemma’s comment just so the thought would leave his head, but he needed to say it in a way that wasn’t flat out ‘I want your thighs around me right now’. “White is a good color on you, though.” Okay. In retrospect maybe ‘I want your thighs around me right now’ would’ve been less obvious.  
“Thanks.” Harry muttered. They sat in a momentary awkward silence. Shit, he shouldn’t have said that. Harry cleared his throat. “I seriously don’t know where the majority of stuff that comes out of her mouth is from.” So, Harry was choosing to ignore the comment and pretend it never happened. Louis should’ve expected this – and the thoughts were back again. ‘I don’t love him.’ ‘I’m not in love with him.’ ‘I don’t think I ever really was.’ He tried to not let his heart falter too drastically.  
“Morning Tomlinson’s.” Robin stated as he walked into the dining room.  
“I take that back.” Harry said under his breath. Wait, why did Robin address them as ‘Tomlinson’s’? Holy shit, he was already on the path to insanity but if Louis didn’t get some answers soon he was going to go fully psychaotic.  
“How are the two of you?”  
“Okay.” Harry said before shoveling food into his mouth in a rush. God, he had a large mouth. It was kind of remarkable how much he could fit in there and oh God Louis needed to stop thinking now.  
“Fine, yourself?” He asked.  
“Well, since this is our last full day here, I was thinking that we should all go out and do something tonight.”  
“Since when do we do family fun nights?” Gemma asked as she came back into the room and sat down.  
“Since we’re all together.”  
“What were you thinking?”  
“Bowling?” Harry’s eyes found Louis’, questioning his approval. Bowling with the Styles-Twist’s sounded like fun, and they all needed something to get them out of the house. Louis smiled and nodded.  
“Sounds fun.” Harry stated.  
“I agree.” Louis assented to. Gemma let out a grumble.  
“I suck at bowling.”  
“Too bad. You’re outvoted three to one.” Harry told her with a small, playful smirk.  
“What about Mom and Aunt Rita and Aunt Alma? They have a vote.”  
“Rita and Alma are going to go out to dinner tonight, so it’ll just be the five of us.” Robin explained with a mouthful of food.  
“Bowling it is.” Harry stated.

 

The afternoon was mostly spent going through Mr. Styles’ possessions and deciding what to keep, what to sell, and what to throw out. A majority of his clothes were to be given to the Salvation Army except for a shirt here and there that either Rita or Harry had a particular attachment to. At one point, Harry disappeared, so Louis went searching the hallways to find him. He was sitting at the bottom of a staircase looking through a photo album. Maybe he wanted to be by himself, but it was impossible for Louis to be in the same room as Harry and not gravitate towards him; considering the amount of time they spent with and around each other, sometimes it felt like they orbited one another. He walked down the stairs and sat next to him. Louis examined the picture on the page that Harry was looking at; a grinning seven-or-so-year-old Harry was in between a younger looking Mr. Styles, who had his arm wrapped around him, and his Mom, who was holding his hand.  
“This is one of the only pictures of the three of us.” Harry looked up and weakly smiled at Louis, his eyes filled to the brim with tears that refused to fall down. It was the face of a brokenhearted child. “Sometimes…sometimes, I wish my life had been like it was in this picture, with the both of them around and together. I mean…I wouldn’t take back the way I was raised because I know that they weren’t happy, and I know that they weren’t suited for being involved parents back then, and I wouldn’t have Gemma, or Robin, or Rita if they stayed together, but I just…I can’t help but wonder sometimes, you know?” Louis put his arm around Harry and pulled him into his body. Harry willingly gave into the embrace and laid his head on Louis’ shoulder. “I wish I could at least remember the times when we were all together.” Louis’ heart felt like it was about to collapse. Then, as if on impulse, he kissed the top of Harry’s head.  
That was when he knew he was really, really, really screwed, because even if Harry didn’t love Louis back, Louis was still in love with Harry. There was no stopping love. Louis had experienced very few things that were worse than loving and not being loved back. So, when he teared up, he felt guilty because Harry must have thought the tears were for him, which, in a way, they were.  
Except they were for the loss of being loved back. 

 

They dropped the Twist’s off at the front door since it was raining. Louis stayed behind with Harry to park the car. The two of them ran to the main entrance together, laughing as they darted through the rain and breathing a sigh of relief when they got inside and weren’t completely soaked.  
“Found them.” Harry pointed to a lane down near the end of the building where the rest of his family was and begun walking that direction. Louis grabbed onto his bicep.  
“Forgetting something?”  
“Ummm…I don’t think so?”  
“Shoes?”  
“Oh, right!” Louis smiled to himself and pulled them towards the shoe exchange.  
“What would you do without me?”  
“Bowl with socks.”  
“You don’t have enough coordination for that.”  
“My coordination is fine!”  
“Yeah, when it doesn’t have to do with your feet.” Harry shrugged.  
“I’m coordinated when it matters.” And okay, was Louis supposed to take that as a reference to sex or not? Knowing Harry, it could either be about sex, something related to his job, or a reference to being able to multitask. They arrived at the shoe exchange while Louis debated this in his head.  
“Shoe size?” The man behind the counter asked. Louis nodded Harry on to speak first.  
“Ummm eleven and a half, please.” Harry said. The man bent down in search for shoes.  
“Your feet are a size eleven and a half?” Louis asked.  
“More or less.”  
“What do you mean, more or less? They either are or they aren’t.” The man popped back up and placed the bowling shoes on the counter.  
“And for you, sir?”  
“A ten, please.” The man briefly shot down and back up with another pair of shoes. Harry took the pair in his hands and measured them up against his.  
“Awww.” He said with a Chesire cat grin.  
“Shut up. Tens aren’t small.” Louis grabbed his shoes and walked towards the lane where the Twist’s were. He could hear Harry’s little chuckle behind him. “What?”  
“You don’t have to defend your shoe size.”  
“I’m not defending them. If I was, then I’d let you know that Liam and Zayn both have smaller feet than I do.”  
“Okay.” He didn’t need to look at Harry to know he was still grinning.  
“You’re the one falsely enhancing your shoe size.”  
“They’re more comfortable.”  
“You’re ridiculous.” Harry began to speed walk in front on Louis. “What are you doing?”  
“Race you.” He tempted with a quirky smile and wagging eyebrows.  
“Your death wish.” Louis quickly caught up to Harry and tried to blow past him, but Harry held out his arm to grab Louis and push him behind. Louis used the angle to pinch Harry’s side, which made him squirm and giggle, and Louis was able to get out of his grip to dash to their lane.  
“What are you doing?” Gemma asked while lacing her shoes. Harry caught up to Louis’ side,  
“Your brother wanted to race. I won.”  
“That wasn’t fair, you tickled me!”  
“You brought it on yourself.”  
“Uh-huh…” Gemma surveyed them for a brief moment then smiled and looked back down. “Did you forget to pick out your balls?”  
“I come fully equipped with two balls.” Louis couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head. It was crude, but shittily punny, and very much Harry. Harry caught sight of Louis and began cackling.  
“There are children here, Harry.” His Mom told him in a light voice. She was obviously trying to hide her smile. “Can we keep the suggestive jokes to a minimum?” Harry shrugged and walked over to the ball shelf. Louis followed, only to find Harry picking out a neon yellow one.  
“Should I use this one?” He asked Louis.  
“For God’s sake, Haz, you have to be strategical when picking a ball. You can’t just choose the first one you see.”  
“Are you an expert on balls?” He asked in a low voice. Fuck, Louis couldn’t play into this. He needed to stay sane somehow.  
“Yes. So you should listen to me.” Louis told him in an instructural way.  
“Fine.” He put the ball back and they both tested different ones until finally choosing. Harry ended up with a neon pink ball. Louis just shook his head because he was so fond of that man that he could be the village idiot and Louis wouldn’t care since everything Harry did was endearing in his eyes.

 

It was Harry’s turn to bowl. He was currently second to last, falling behind Gemma, but ahead of his Mom. Louis was in second place, behind Robin, which he was quite proud of. Harry wasn’t taking the standings badly; in fact, he was probably having the most fun out of them all. He acted like Louis’ personal cheerleader most of the time. Whenever it was Louis’ turn, he’d yell, “Yeah, Lou! Whooo! Get a strike! You can do it!” then he’d pass it off for vicariously succeeding through Louis. Louis wasn’t complaining.  
He, Gemma, and Robin were currently joking around on the lane. Meanwhile, Louis sat back next to Harry’s Mom, eating another slice of pizza and watching on.  
“Lou, Mom!” Harry shouted, “I have a new idea! Watch!” First, he moonwalked back to the lane then quickly turned around and released the ball. It was an immediate gutter ball, but a valiant effort nonetheless.  
“Gutttttterrrrrrr Baaaaalllll!” Everyone in their party, including Harry, shouted. Louis laughed and gave a thumb’s up when he made eye contact with Harry. Harry smiled like it was the first time he’d seen the sun in years.  
“It’s been so great having you here, Louis.” Harry’s Mom told him.  
“Thank you for having me.”  
“Oh don’t thank me, it’s not my house.” She dismissed. Louis still felt the need to thank her somehow.  
“Well, thank you for being so welcoming.”  
“Don’t thank me for that; having you here with us isn’t a chore. It’s a blessing, really. I don’t know how Harry would’ve gotten through this without you.” Hearing her words made Louis’ stomach churn the pizza he’d just swallowed.  
“I’m glad to be here.”  
“Good. We’re all glad you’re here. Even Gemma has taken a liking to you; that doesn’t happen very often.”  
“No?”  
“She’s a bit headstrong, gets that from her Dad,” Louis looked at the lane. She and Robin were trying to give Harry tips on how to properly bowl. Harry was blatantly ignoring the advice. “and she doesn’t take to a lot of people, like Harry.” Louis knew that about Harry. In High School, Harry had a lot of acquaintances, but very few friends. For the most part, it had only been him and Louis. Truth be told, they didn’t need anyone else. In college it seemed like Harry had clung onto Niall. Louis understood where the impressions Harry’s Mom had of him came from. They watched as Harry did some ridiculous non-stretches. He jumped in the air doing some sort of ballerina twirl. Louis chuckled to himself. “You know, it amazes me, seeing how much you’ve grown.” Louis turned his attention to Harry’s Mom. She gazed at him with some sort of…look in her eyes. Louis didn’t quite know what it was or how to place it. “You’re a bona fide businessman, just like Harry’s father. I cannot believe the carefree, young Louis with the fringed hair – ” He inwardly groaned picturing his teenage-self being the impression Harry’s Mom had of him in her head for all of these years, “ – is now the handsome, mature man in front of me running his own architecture firm.” Louis’ gut began to twist at her words. “I know I wasn’t around much when Harry was younger, but it’s almost impossible for me to think about Harry’s childhood without thinking of you. I’m so proud of who you are today.” Did she just – did Harry’s Mom just say – “Well don’t look so surprised. You look like no one’s ever told you that before.” No parent had ever told him that before. He had no idea what to say. “Has no one said that to you before?” How was he supposed to react to this?  
“Ummm…not really.” He admitted.  
“Oh, Louis….” She said with concern. Louis wondered if she would understood better if she knew about his relationship with his family. “Well I mean it, I do. I am so proud of you.” The second time she said it didn’t feel any less strange to Louis. It felt like listening to a foreign language and not being able to comprehend any of the words.  
“Mom, your turn.” Harry came up to them with a smile plastered on his face.  
“Harry, would you please tell Louis that you’re proud of him?” She commanded while getting up. Harry gave Louis a questioning smirk. Louis shook his head and took a bite of pizza. “And I’m taking my seat back when I’m done, so don’t get comfortable.” Then off she went. Harry took her seat.  
“What was that about?”  
“Your Mom just said…” Louis was still in a state of shock. He tried to shrug the words off but they refused to stop him from feeling dumbfounded.  
“That she’s proud of you?” He asked. Louis nodded. “Didn’t I tell you that?”  
“It’s just…weird. It’s one thing when you tell me that, but it’s an entirely different thing when she says it to my face.” Louis lifted up his slice of pizza to his mouth when he heard Harry go,  
“Aaaaah.” He looked over to find Harry with his huge mouth wide open, tongue lying out, and eyes darted towards the slice of pizza. God, his mouth shouldn’t be legal.  
“Am I your pizza servant now? Is that all I am to you?” Harry chuckled. Louis couldn’t help but think he looked obscene like that, just waiting to be fed. He rolled his eyes but fed it to Harry anyway, not minding how his shark mouth bit off about half of the slice. Louis took a bite as well and they both chewed in silence, then Harry asked right after he swallowed,  
“Why is it weird?”  
“Hmm?”  
“Being praised.” Louis shrugged,  
“Not used to it, I guess.”  
“Well you should get used to it.” Harry explained to him as if it was as simple as the sky being blue. However, it wasn’t as simple as that. When Louis was younger, his parents never gave him a clear answer as to why the sky was blue, and he went on with no explanation until he researched it in college; in reality, the sky’s blue because blue light from the sun is absorbed and then radiated in different directions by gas molecules in the atmosphere. He didn’t think his parents knew that fact, even today.  
“WHOOOO!” Everyone yelled. They looked towards the lane to see Harry’s Mom jumping up and down and cheering.  
“I got a spaaaare, I got a spaaaare!” She sing-songed.  
“Did she just get ahead of me?” They looked at the monitor. Harry’s Mom was now beating Harry by 5 points. “Dammit.” He murmured.  
“Consolation bite?” Louis held up the remainder of his pizza slice to Harry. Harry giggled, fucking giggled, but leaned in and took the final bite.  
“Out of my seat, pumpkin.” Harry resentfully got up, waited for his Mom to sit down, then sat down on her lap. She groaned out a painful laugh. Harry smiled and leaned back to rest his head on her shoulders. “You’re too old to be doing this.”  
“You’re calling me old?”  
“No matter how big you become, you’ll always be my baby.” His Mom kissed him on the top of his head and rubbed her hand up and down his arm. Louis’ heart swelled at the sight. He wished for a moment that he and his Mom had a relationship like that. It wasn’t a distant possibility, but so long as her expectations of him were in the way, they couldn’t have that sort of relationship. Besides, he couldn’t remember the last time he sat on his Mom’s lap. He must’ve been younger than five.  
“So you’re calling me fat?” He retorted. His Mom laughed,  
“Yes, now get off.” Harry stood up and faced Louis. He pointed to Louis’ empty plate,  
“Want me to throw that out?”  
“Oh, sure.” He took the plate from Louis’ hand, walked it over to the trashcan, came back, and gently plopped himself on Louis’ lap. He wasn’t expecting the sudden weight of Harry on him, but he didn’t mind it. In fact, it was kind of a comfortable presence.  
“I’m not hurting you, am I?”  
“No, you’re fine.”  
“You sure?”  
“Yeah.” Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist. It was more comfortable that way, and Harry didn’t protest against it, so he figured it was fine. Sitting like this just felt…natural.  
“Can I have a sip of your soda, Lou?”  
“Yeah, sure.” Harry reached out for Louis’ cup on the table, then turned his head back to ask him,  
“Wanna sip?” Louis opened his mouth, Harry put the straw on his tongue, and he took a sip.  
“I still find it funny how you two tried to hide your relationship when you were younger.” Louis almost choked on the straw. He pushed it out of his mouth with his tongue. “One look at the two of you is all someone needs to figure out that you’re together.” What? Holy shit, did she think they were dating? Didn’t she know about fucking Michael? Louis’ stomach dropped through a sinkhole. Harry’s Mom shocked him for the second time in less than five minutes. This family seriously needed to stop messing with Louis’ mind. Harry leaned forward to put the drink back on the table without taking a sip. The distance he went was much further than necessary in order to precisely reach the table. Louis wasn’t sure if that was a hint to detach his arms from around Harry’s waist or not. He did it anyway. Louis felt Harry stiffen up; he moved his body so he wasn’t sitting on Louis’ lap, more like he was hovering above Louis’ knees.  
“We’re not, ummm, we’re not dating, Mom.”  
“You’re not?” She asked in disbelief.  
“Can I join?” Gemma asked. She didn’t wait for an answer before sitting on top of Harry, pushing Harry’s body into Louis’. Their combined weight on top of Louis just about crushed him.  
“Oww!” He yelled.  
“Gemma, get off!” Harry shouted while forcing himself to lean forward and push Gemma off.  
“Incoming!” Robin said while leaning onto Gemma. All of Harry’s efforts failed because he came crashing right back into Louis’ face. Normally, Louis would’ve been fine with the closeness, but Harry had basically rejected him in front of his Mom, so he felt like he was majorly invading Harry’s personal space. Thankfully Robin got up as fast as he leaned on Gemma, and Harry pushed Gemma off of him. He stood up and walked to the row of seats on the other side of the table. “Louis, it’s your turn.” Robin told him.  
“Okay.” Louis couldn’t stand up fast enough; he was extremely embarrassed by the conversation that had just unfolded. It was like rejection, part two. Gemma followed him to the lane.  
“I’m currently fifteen points behind you, f-y-i.” She told him.  
“Okay.” Louis was trying his best to not let his disinterest in her words show. His mind was doing it again: ‘I don’t love him.’ ‘I’m not in love with him.’ ‘I don’t think I ever really was.’ ‘I don’t love him.’ ‘I’m not in love with him.’ ‘I don’t think I ever really was.’ Gemma leaned against the ball return and observed him in silence. He was thankful that she stayed quiet because he could hear Harry and his Mom.  
“ – say that?”  
“You told me you had a boyfriend!”  
“I do: Michael.”  
“Then why is Louis here?”  
“He’s my best friend.”  
“Oh pumpkin, don’t do this to yourself.” Louis tried to shake himself out of it. It wasn’t working. All he heard in his head were those fucking phrases. ‘I don’t love him.’ ‘I’m not in love with him.’ ‘I don’t think I ever really was.’  
“If you’re gonna listen in that obviously, you might as well stand next to them so you don’t have to strain your ears.” Gemma told him. His stomach felt like it was going to fall out through his intestines.  
“I’m not…” listening? That was a lie and Gemma knew it. There was no use in lying to that girl. She had seen through Louis this entire time. Gemma had a weird smile on her face; it was full of sorrowful understanding.  
“I know.” It was clear in that moment that even though Gemma didn’t know every piece of the story, she knew the nature of Louis’ relationship with Harry. She knew how Louis felt about him. The sympathy she had for Louis was etched all around her face.  
He knew he’d gone wrong somewhere in his life if a sixteen-year-old girl felt bad for him.

 

That night, they were in their room packing. The TV volume was low enough to provide a background noise to their conversation, but loud enough to comprehend each word being emitted from the speakers. Harry wasn’t looking at Louis, but rather down at the clothes he was putting into his suitcase. Ever since his Mom said she thought they were dating, Harry had barely glanced at him. They only exchanged short statements about packing and their travel logistics for tomorrow. It was driving Louis insane and he couldn’t take it anymore. He tried to start a conversation:  
“I’ve always hated packing.” He looked over at Harry, who didn’t even flinch at the comment. Alright, he’d try again, “I wish there was some invention that would fold and pack your clothes for you. I mean, I guess you could just hire a maid, but how would they know what clothes you wanted to take? Usually when I pack, I don’t even know what clothes I’m going to take. Half of my wardrobe is currently on my bedroom floor.”  
“Mmm.” Harry hummed. Okay, this was frustrating as fuck. All Louis wanted was a conversation, some sort of reassurance that ‘although I don’t love you, I still want to be friends’, but he was getting nothing.  
“You’re very vocal tonight.” He said, half in sarcasm, half in annoyance.  
“Just…thinking.” Oh great, he was thinking. That really cleared things up.  
“About…?”  
“Stuff.”  
“Aaah, stuff, I should’ve known.” That got a light chuckle out of Harry, and a weird sense of satisfaction filled up Louis’ chest. Okay, so he still had the ability to humor Harry; that was a good sign, right? “Care to elaborate?” Harry stayed silent for a few moments and slowed down his movements. Louis wasn’t sure if that was a no or not. So he waited…and then he waited a few more seconds…then a few more, until:  
“I don’t believe in God. I never have.” Harry confessed. And – okay, this certainly strayed away from ‘stuff’…not that Louis minded, really, because this was their first real conversation starter in hours. If it was going to be about religion, then fine, let it be about religion; Louis was just happy that Harry was talking to him again. But, why was Harry thinking about that? Out of all the topics ‘stuff’ was composed of, why did he choose faith? “I wasn’t raised on any religious beliefs. Sometimes I liked certain aspects about what different Gods in different religions stood for, but I never believed in one.” Then Harry stopped talking. Well, that was…weird. Louis always figured Harry wasn’t religious and he was fine with that. It didn’t change his opinion of him.  
“Okay.” He said while folding a shirt.  
“Are you fine with that?” Why was he asking for Louis’ approval? He already had it.  
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Harry bashfully shrugged.  
“Wasn’t sure if you would like that or not.” Louis shook his head,  
“You’re confusing me with the rest of my family.” He pointed out. Harry bit his bottom lip and stayed quiet. Louis didn’t know if that meant the conversation was over or not. He put his last shirt into his suitcase, zippered it, rested it against the wall, then walked back to his side of the bed and lounged down. He noticed Harry was packing exceedingly slower than he was a minute ago; it had always been easy to figure out if Harry was thoroughly thinking something through, and this was definitely one of those moments. Louis pulled out his phone and began to go through his emails while Harry thought about what he wanted to say. There was an office update from Liam describing the state of all their current projects as well as an email from Zayn with a link to an article about the Stanford band’s cowbell player being the undisputed star of March Madness. Curiosity peaked Louis’ interest in Zayn’s email, but he knew that reading Liam’s first was probably in his best interest.  
“Would they approve of that?” Harry asked with genuine concern. Louis was surprised at the question; this was a path he didn’t expect the conversation to go down. Louis looked up at him; he was still staring down at his open suitcase.  
“My parents? Why does their approval matter?” He didn’t understand why Harry was troubled over this. Harry stayed silent for a few moments, then responded with a soft,  
“I want them to approve of me in some way.” A part of Louis’ body felt like it was being chiseled away. He had extreme sympathy for Harry in that moment. Harry knew Louis’ parents didn’t take a liking to him in the past, but hell, he sounded more worried about Louis’ parents’ approval of him than Louis was. Granted, Louis had given up on that a long time ago, but the point still stood. That worry shouldn’t be a burden on Harry’s shoulders. It wasn’t necessary.  
“I’ve learned that the key to my parents’ approval is to not care. I don’t need their support or acceptance to be the person I am and neither do you. It’s better to live the life you want to than to live life the way someone else wants you to.” Harry didn’t look any more at ease because of that. Louis softened his voice, “They barely approve of me…there’s no reason for you to worry about them.” Harry did one of his fake smiles with pressed lips. That probably wasn’t the response he was looking for, but what else was Louis supposed to say, ‘My parents had a change of heart and will accept you one hundred percent, no matter who you are or what you believe in’? He wasn’t going to lie to Harry.  
“So…you don’t care that I don’t believe in God?”  
“No. I always figured you didn’t.” He wasn’t sure if he should admit it or not, but Harry had just disclosed his beliefs to Louis, so it was only fair that Louis did the same. Besides, for the first time in what felt like his entire life, he was adamant about his own beliefs. Oh, fuck it; he had nothing to lose. “I don’t believe in Him either, so…doesn’t make much of a difference to me.” He tried to say it as indifferently as possible. In all actuality, his heart felt like it was whacking his lungs with each pulse; he had never admitted that out loud to anyone before. He pretended to be paying attention to Liam’s email, but really his eyes skimmed over the same sentence while he watched for Harry’s reaction out of the corner of his eye. Harry finally looked up at him. Louis acted like he didn’t notice.  
“You don’t?”  
“No.”  
“When did this happen?” Louis smiled to himself; it was kind of funny how astonished Harry was by this. All things considered, Louis thought Harry would understand better than anyone else why he didn’t believe there was a God.  
“When I reached the age of reason.”  
“I’m serious, Lou.”  
“So am I.” Harry cocked his head to the side, edging Louis on to provide him with some sort of explanation. Louis sighed and put down his phone. “When you let your God down long enough, you start to question why you’re living your life to please him in the first place.”  
“When did you start thinking that way?” Louis rested his head against the plush backboard. This could take a while.  
“I started questioning the whole religion thing my early twenties – actually no, that’s a lie; I started questioning God in my teens. I didn’t understand how being the way I was…the things that made me happy…” Why was he beating around the bush? This was Harry, and it wasn’t like Harry didn’t know. Hell, Harry was the first one to know. “Being gay. I didn’t understand why people said that wasn’t okay and how religion justified that, so I tried to find reason in religion.”  
“What do you mean by that?” Louis began to shake his foot. It was an anxious habit.  
“Like…how people use some passage from the Bible to justify their reasoning for why things have to be a certain way – oh, and not to mention that this book was written as a guideline for people thirty-five-hundred years ago who were lucky if they made it to the age of forty; they were focused on having a good afterlife considering that their life here was so short. A bit has changed since then.” Louis heard Harry softly chuckle at that. “I guess I noticed that whenever people couldn’t explain something, they’d say it was because God made it that way, which makes sense for people living back in whatever-year-BC; it’s undoubtedly easier to say some supreme creator made things a certain way and that’s just how it is than to try to prove something without having the means to do so. But now there’s scientific reasoning, which uses evidence to validate and explain the things people once couldn’t make sense of. Saying ‘God did it’ or ‘because God says so’ isn’t an acceptable explanation for anything in my opinion. It doesn’t explain anything and it stops people from trying to figure out how the World works. It’s basically religious slang for ‘I don’t know’. What baffles me the most, though, is that people are fearful of thinking outside of the narrow box they’ve been told to stay in. It’s like being trapped in a room with no doors or windows your entire life. You’re stuck in confinement, but you don’t see it that way because it’s all you know. Suddenly, without any warning, an opening appears out of nowhere. Some people will choose to venture out and see where it leads, but others won’t want to leave the comfort of those walls because it’s how they’ve lived their entire life and they don’t want change. As soon as the possibility of another World appears, the possibility that they’ll find something that may disrupt what they’ve dedicated their entire lives to appears. They’re afraid of change. In their defense, though – and this is one of the only times I will defend religion – how could they not be scared? They’ve lived their entire lives devoted to making it into Heaven, and then they find out there may not be a Heaven. How would that make you feel?” He paused to see how Harry would answer. Harry sat in intense thought. His eyebrows were deeply furrowed and his lips were pushed together. He looked deeply puzzled.  
“Personally, I would’ve ventured out of the room, but I guess in the situation that you’re asking, I wouldn’t wanna believe it.” He answered.  
“Which is exactly my point. Catholics know the Bible and God. Their room is composed of archaic stories that lay out a guideline of how-to-be-accepted-into-thirteen-hundred-BC-society, and their lifetime achievement is to die and go to Heaven. They’re taught ignorance because those are the only things in their room.”  
“Wow.” Harry whispered. Louis chuckled at his reaction. He was glad he could make someone as inquisitive as Harry consider and understand his point of view. “So…I mean, if you don’t mind me asking, what do you consider yourself?” Louis shrugged.  
“I’ve thought about religion a lot in the past, and I obviously have a lot of problems with it, the main one being that it’s all misguided. When it comes down to the basic level, religion is extremely self-centered. Sure, it promotes being kind to others – that share your beliefs, I should add – but it’s all about that person getting to live a happy, self-fulfilling afterlife. It’s like Simon Says: you do everything Simon tells you to do during the game, but when you win, screw Simon and his orders because you have the trophy and the rules don’t apply to you anymore. People have convinced themselves they’re being righteous by trying to help others get into Heaven, but they’re only trying to give themselves a leg up. I just consider myself to be non-religious now. It’s nice to think that there’s something out there with a front row seat to our lives and is personally guiding each and every one of us, but logically, that makes no sense. People don’t understand that the Earth is a speck of dust in our own galaxy, let alone the Universe. If God really did create the Universe, how can you convince yourself that he created it for the nine million or so species on Earth? Then, if you take it a step further, why did he create it for a single shade, or gender, or sexual orientation, or religious group of one of those species? How can a God who supposedly loves all of his children also preach abusive hate and maltreatment? To my parents, being gay is on the same level of sinning as murder. Just think about that for a second: they would put me in an eternal jail cell with someone who killed another person because apparently God personally told them that’s how it has to be.” Louis stopped himself. He could feel the blood rushing throughout his body and heat building up in his lungs. His face was scrunching up in disgust. Harry was shaking his head. Louis shut his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, he looked over at Harry, who was intently staring at him. “You’re really interested in this?”  
“Yeah, I mean, your parents…” Harry was trying to be a diplomat once again and not blatantly say the truth, which might be offensive, thus why he was at a loss for words. Louis wanted to say ‘are ignorant assholes’, but he figured that would only raise his blood pressure.  
“Are Catholic.” He sufficed.  
“Right. So you grew up on those beliefs.”  
“That Jesus Christ is our savior and we must live a life knowing, loving, and serving God to gain the happiness of Heaven. Yeah, that sounds about right.” He affirmed in an extremely sarcastic tone. Harry zipped his suitcase closed and placed it on the floor before hopping onto his side of the bed, sitting crossed legged and facing Louis.  
“You were never outwardly against religion when we were younger.”  
“How could I be? I would’ve been crucified if I questioned what we were having for dinner.” Harry quietly giggled and begun playing with the fabric on the bottom of his sweatpants.  
“So…what happened?”  
“I moved out of my parents’ house.”  
“And that was it? You just decided there was no God?”  
“No, I guess…it was a transition. I believed in God for a long time, but I kept being let down. Some people strengthen their beliefs when they go through hard times; they say they can feel God with them or something like that. And I get it. I can easily sympathize with not wanting to feel so alone and hoping that we each have a special purpose in life. I’ve been there countless times…except I never got an answer from some supreme creator.” Louis was astonished that these bursts were coming out of him. There had never been a time in his life when he had so blatantly laid out his beliefs for someone. The pure honesty and truths of his life were pouring out of his mouth like water streaming from a hose to nourish a garden. He didn’t understand how he wasn’t even hesitating to admit his ideologies.  
“What did you go through?” Or maybe he did understand: this was Harry, and Harry was the one who made him begin to wonder what his true beliefs were over sixteen years ago. Harry was the one that provided support for Louis to begin to become the person he was today. Harry gave him the ocean to float on, as well as the depths to dive into and discover what was beneath the surface. Harry helped Louis become an individual. It was only right that Louis give him all the answers that he once wanted, but could never provide.  
“Prolonged unhappiness with my choices.” He admitted.  
“I’m sorry.” Why did Harry always apologize for things he didn’t need to apologize for?  
“There’s no need to be.” They stayed quiet for a few moments. Louis could see that Harry was thinking through something in his mind, but he knew it would come out at one point or another, so he waited.  
“That night you came to the bar with me and Niall and Amy…” Also known as the night Louis remembered as Harry getting drunk off of his ass. “You said that you almost became an alcoholic.”  
“You remember that night?”  
“I remember some of it.” What exactly did ‘some’ imply? Did he remember telling Louis that he never forgot about him and then proceeding to say he had really blue eyes? Because Louis certainly remembered that. “Why did you drink?” That answer was fairly simple,  
“It was nice to forget for a few hours.”  
“What did you want to forget?” The better question to ask would’ve been what didn’t he want to forget? That list would certainly be shorter.  
“My mistakes.”  
“We all make mistakes.” Harry explained as if that wasn’t a good excuse.  
“Yeah, well most people don’t have their mistakes hung in front of them like a piece of steak in front of a starving dog’s nose.” Harry took that answer into consideration.  
“Who was hanging your mistakes in front of your face?”  
“I dunno…sometimes little things would happen that would remind me of…” ‘you and how I fucked up our relationship and my relationship with my family and how I couldn’t come to terms with being me and how I could never forgive myself for any it’ he thought, “…stuff. But I guess myself, mostly.”  
“How so?” There was nothing to hide anymore, and Louis knew that. He finally acted on it:  
“I was terrified of being myself. You know that better than anyone else.” Harry bent his head down, pressed his lips together, and shrugged. “You do.” Louis felt the need to affirm. He treated Harry like shit because he couldn’t accept himself. He needed to apologize and he was going to do it now. “You had to suffer through me being an ignorant asshole, and I’m sorry for treating you the way I did.” Harry looked up at Louis; his eyes were aglow with pure admiration. Louis didn’t understand how Harry could look at him like that.  
“I didn’t think of you like that.” He softly spoke. “I still don’t.”  
“Then I need a pair of those rose-colored glasses you have on.”  
“We tend to see ourselves in the worst light possible. You know that phrase; we’re our own worst critics? You’re definitely the biggest Louis critic I know.” Louis snickered to himself,  
“You haven’t talked to my Dad in a while.”  
“Stop deprecating yourself. Do I actually need to go through the list of why you’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever known?”  
“Seriously, what prescription of rose do you have on?”  
“You’ve always been there for me. Whether I need it or refuse it, you’re always by my side – ”  
“Harry – ”  
“ – maybe I asked for you to be there, maybe I didn’t, but either way I can count on you to show up. You’re one of the most dependable people in my life – ”  
“Please don’t say that about me.”  
“The truth?” Louis finally snapped:  
“If that’s the truth, then why did I leave you for sixteen years?” They both fell silent. It was finally out in the open. After sixteen years of hoping, and wishing, and changing, and waiting, that huge, morbidly obese elephant standing in the middle of the room had finally been acknowledged.  
“I left you too.” Harry softly stated. “We’re both at fault for that one.” Louis hung his head. Harry didn’t get it.  
“I didn’t try. I just let you go.”  
“What were we gonna do, Louis?” Harry asked defensively. “Have a long distance relationship? Were your parents gonna let you spend your breaks with me in Albany? Were they gonna let me spend breaks in your house? They didn’t like me – ”  
“My Mom liked you, or…at least she knew better than to speak out against you. My Dad’s an asshole.”  
“Either way, the logistics of our situation never would’ve worked.” Louis knew this. He was well aware of everything Harry had said to him. He’d thought it over hundreds of times in the past sixteen years. But now he knew that Harry had thought the same thing. He wasn’t sure if that made his perception of their relationship sting more or less. “We both had separate issues in our relationship. I imagined a World where everything could be perfect and we would always be happy together, but that wasn’t the World we lived in. I wanted more than was possible for you to give me, and I pressured you into identifying yourself before you were ready to even consider doing that, and that caused a lot of problems on your part. I really am so, so sorry for forcing you out of your comfort zone. I didn’t realize I was doing it at the time, but I do now, and I hope that you can see it too. If I could go back and change the way I treated you, I would…but I can’t. So, I’m just…I hope you can forgive me. And please, please, please, stop convincing yourself that you were the only reason we didn’t work out. I’m just as much at fault as you are.” Harry pointing out the flaws in their relationship and the apologizing for making Louis into the person he was today definitely broke something inside of him. “We weren’t functional. There was no way we could’ve continued anything at that point in our lives. You were figuring things out, and I thought I had it all figured out, which I didn’t. We just…we didn’t have it together.” Louis knew that they weren’t perfect, but for some reason when he thought about their relationship in the past, he believed their issues came down to him. He never considered that Harry contributed just as much as to why they didn’t work out. The worst part was that Harry was right: he did force Louis beyond his comfort zone. Because Louis couldn’t give Harry what he wanted, he felt shittier about his position in their relationship. He thought it was his fault for being an idiot and not being able to give Harry everything he deserved, but it was also Harry’s fault for pushing Louis to give him more than he was able to. Harry was right.  
Accepting that he wasn’t the only one who caused problems, it was also Harry, was a new point of view. A correct point of view.  
Louis finally understood.  
“You’re right.”  
It wasn’t only up to Louis to change, it was up to Harry as well. And it wasn’t only up to Louis to want it again, it was up to Harry to want it too.  
“So…can you forgive me?”  
Their relationship suddenly transformed right in front of his eyes: they were in a partnership, not a sovereign pair where one of them dictated their course of travel. Their endeavors were united with one another. Every one of their actions had an equal and opposite reaction on both of them. What Louis did affected Harry, but what Harry did also affected Louis. It was such a simple concept. It had been right in front of him all along, but he refused to see it because in his eyes, Harry could do no wrong. But Harry could do wrong; he was human, just like Louis, and he made mistakes, just like Louis. It wasn’t something to be punished for; it was something that they both had to recognize and act upon in order to move forward.  
“If you can forgive me.” Harry smiled, a sort of melancholy, closed-mouthed grin filled with remorse, yet complete joy and pride. Louis had never seen a smile like it in his entire life, and he doubted he would see anything close to it ever again.  
“I forgave you years ago.”  
A mutual want to learn, grow, and support one another – those were the true means of having a lasting relationship.  
“Then I forgive you.”  
The problems of their past had resolved right in front of his eyes. He never thought he would see this day. In the act of Harry forgiving him, Louis had forgiven himself. He felt no resentment towards his past self, nor did he feel any towards Harry’s. There were no more grudges. He was no longer trudging through life with the weight of his past mistakes burdening his every move. The demons that held him down let go of their grip. He felt…lighter.  
Louis realized his own faults and changed. And the more and more he thought about it, Harry had certainly realized his past errors and changed. They both took responsibility for the actions. So, maybe –  
“What are we now?” Oh, fuck. Louis was absolutely stunned that those words just left his mouth. He was about to tell Harry to forget he just said that, but Harry quickly answered in an indisputable tone,  
“We’re best friends.”  
“Right, yeah.” He hurried out. They both sat in silence for a few moments, the murmur of the TV prevalent in the room but certainly not the first thing on Louis’ mind. Shit. Why the hell did he just say that? It was the opening question to the conversation about the current state of their relationship. It was the path to admitting his feelings for Harry. He couldn’t do that. It would lead into the whole you-need-to-choose-me-or-fucking-Michael conversation, which would result in Harry leaving Louis’ life for good if he didn’t want him back, and right now that was a viable pathway with if ‘I don’t love him’ ‘I’m not in love with him’ ‘I don’t think I ever really was’ and ‘we’re not dating’ were anything to go by. There was too much at risk and Louis wasn’t ready to risk losing Harry at this moment. He shouldn’t have said that.  
“You want that, right?” Harry asked with uncertainty. Did he want to close off the road to being something more than friends? Or…did that question mean he wanted to venture down the possibility of opening it? Maybe he could cast a line and see if Harry bit it or not.  
“Of course I do…do you want that?” He asked with baited breath.  
“Yeah.” Harry looked down at his hands. They were folded together and he was twiddling his thumbs. “I mean – ” Cloo-clop. “Is someone at the door?” Wait, ‘I mean – ’ what? What was he about to say?  
Cloo-clopclopclopclopclopclopclopclopclopclopclopclopclopclopclopclop  
Someone was definitely at the door. Harry sighed, got up, and walked out of the room. Louis was torn in between being relieved that they wouldn’t be having a conversation about the current state of their relationship and wanting to stop Harry before he reached the door to ask him what he was about to say and what exactly they were doing and where they were going because maybe he was ready to admit – he heard the front door open. Shit: kiss that opportunity goodbye.  
“Can I come in?” That was definitely Gemma at the door.  
“Ummm…”  
“Pleaseeee, it’s boring in there.”  
“Gems…” Was Harry not going to let her in?  
“This is our last night together for a long time.”  
“It won’t be that long.”  
“How do you know?” There was a pause, and then,  
“Fine.” Louis could tell by Harry’s tone of voice that he felt guilty if he didn’t let her in, but he simultaneously felt guilty for letting her in. Well, it looked like they wouldn’t be talking about their relationship or lack there of. On the bright side, at least Harry wouldn’t be leaving Louis for now. It was probably the right decision to let her in…if only so Louis had more time with Harry.  
“Hey, Louis!” Gemma said with a huge smile as she sauntered into the room.  
“Hi.” He didn’t mean to sound disappointed, it just came out that way. Gemma jumped on the bed and took her place sitting down in the middle, comfortably pressed up to Louis’ side so there was space for Harry to sit next to her. Maybe it should’ve been concerning how easily Gemma let Louis fit into her relationship with Harry, especially considering that she definitely knew about Louis’ true feelings towards Harry; however, Louis knew he shouldn’t question it, instead he should appreciate what little time he had left with both of them. “Anything interesting going on in there?” Louis asked her as Harry took his place on his side of the bed.  
“Typical boring adults being boring adults.”  
“You do realize that we’re both adults, right?” Harry said.  
“You’re not boring yet.”  
“I like how you use the word yet.”  
“Everyone becomes boring at some point.”  
“What if I choose not to be boring?”  
“Well you’re watching Deadliest Catch at nine o’clock on a Tuesday night so you’re not exactly headed on the right track.”  
“Who says that’s boring?”  
“Most of the country.”  
“I’m excited to be boring.” Louis interjected.  
“Why?” Harry asked. His answer was simple:  
“Because it means that you’ve settled down.”  
“Too much drama in your life?” Gemma questioned.  
“Imagine the adult version of yours with bills and taxes.”  
“Hah, no thank you.” She said while sinking down into the mattress.  
“Woah, woah, woah, what’s going on in your life, Gem?” Harry asked, pointedly not asking Louis about what was going on in his life.  
“Typical Jenny being an idiot and trying to screw me over in the process.” Jenny…why did that name ring a bell in Louis’ head?  
“Why are you still hanging out with her?” When was the last time he knew someone named Jenny?  
“I don’t know. I’m beginning to rethink my life choices after talking to Louis.” Louis was taken out of his thoughts.  
“What?” He asked.  
“You pointed out that I’m basically hanging out with Jenny out of convenience and because I feel like I need to, not because I want to be her friend.” He thought back on their coversation and didn’t remember directly saying any of those things.  
“I did?”  
“More or less.” He took a glance at Harry and saw he had a look of ‘you’re giving advice to my sister?’ on his face. “I think everybody should take recommendations from you. Nobody needs a Jenny in their life.” Jenny – wait! He remembered!  
“Wasn’t Jenny the name of your first girlfriend, Harry?” He blurted out.  
“Oh wow,” Harry was taken by surprise, “umm…yeah.”  
“You had a girlfriend?” Gemma asked with a shocked smile.  
“Yeah. I was the first one in our grade to be in a relationship.” He stated with a mock air of pride. Louis rolled his eyes,  
“He thought he was the shit for it.”  
“I was the shit. All the girls wanted me.”  
“Calm down, lady killer, you weren’t that popular.”  
“I thought you always dated boys…?” Gemma asked.  
“Dated isn’t the right word.” Harry told her with a clear indication towards his relationship with Louis humorlessly laced into it. Oh, so they could joke about their past now? That was…good to know. Harry really had forgiven him  
“Been with, whatever. Since when did you date girls?”  
“Why are you so shocked? I had to figure out I was gay somehow. The last time I was with a girl was in ninth grade.” Wait –  
“You broke up with Jenny in eigth grade.”  
“Caroline.” Harry pointed out. Louis couldn’t help but laugh a bit remembering that short-lived relationship.  
“Oh God, how could I forget that shit storm?”  
“I dunno. You were the one who put that together.”  
“Wait, Louis, you set him up with a girl?”  
“Technically it wasn’t even me, it was my girlfriend.”  
“Who was your girlfriend?” Harry let out a grunt. “What?”  
“Nothing.” Louis knew exactly why he just grunted: Harry hated Eleanor. He laughed to himself because even after sixteen years, Harry still held a grudge against Eleanor. Feelings really did endure the passing of time.  
“Then why did you just grunt?”  
“Umm, stomach pains.”  
“You’re a horrible liar.”  
“I’m not lying.”  
“Bullshit.” Louis decided to interrupt so Harry wouldn’t have to continue to struggle at lying,  
“I had two girlfriends.”  
“You never dated Rachael.” Harry said a bit defensively.  
“I dated someone in college.”  
“College?” Harry asked. Louis noticed that Harry had leaned his body all the way back on the frame and past Gemma’s body so he could clearly see Louis’ face.  
“Yeah.”  
“What was her name?” He questioned in an interrogating tone. Louis wasn’t sure where this sudden change in his demeanor came from.  
“Why does it matter…?”  
“I was just wondering.” Harry was trying to cover up his tracks of jealousy. Louis easily saw straight through it. As bad as it was, Louis kind of enjoyed seeing Harry get jealous. It gave him a strange sense of security to know Harry was protective over him. “You never mentioned her before.”  
“Because she’s not important.”  
“Uh-huh…” Gemma said. None of them continued on the topic. The three of them sat in a tense silence. “I need to go to the bathroom.” After Gemma closed the door to the bathroom, Louis looked over at Harry. His face was dejectedly scrunched up. Okay, now he felt bad for making him jealous.  
“Just say what you’re thinking.” Louis whispered.  
“Not thinking anything.” He whispered back.  
“You’re a really shitty liar.” Harry sighed, turned his head, and gazed at Louis underneath despondent eyelids. Yeah, now Louis felt really bad. But why did Harry look like he was personally offended?  
“You dated a girl in college.” He stated.  
“Yeah.” Louis confirmed. Harry looked down at his clasped hands and twiddled his thumbs.  
“Why?”  
“Umm…because I did?” Harry’s head visibly sagged at that. Why did Harry care so much about the girlfriend Louis had in college? He felt the need to reassure Harry somehow, even though he didn’t know what he was reassuring him of. “She didn’t mean anything to me.” Harry stayed silent for a few moments. Louis hated not knowing what was going on in his head. “What’s wrong?”  
“Did you treat college like a clean slate to your sexuality?” That’s why Harry was so bothered, because he didn’t declare he was gay immediately after their relationship?  
“Are you upset because I didn’t go into college telling everyone I was gay?” Harry’s eyebrows were forced inwards and he was clearly frowning. The facial contortion looked painful to be in. Louis didn’t understand why he was taking this so personally. Him having a girlfriend in college wasn’t an attack against Harry. “I didn’t even realize I was gay until halfway through my freshman year.” Some sort of mood washed over Harry’s entire face. It was as if he had a serious injury and was in total and complete distress.  
“Everything we did…did that not convince you? Did I not mean anything to you?” He meekly whispered. A tidal wave of remorse crashed into and submerged Louis body; he couldn’t believe that Harry interpreted him having a girlfriend in college as him not meaning anything to Louis. He had to stop himself from moving over and hugging Harry so he would really know how false that inference was. He needed to clarify this:  
“What? No, no, Haz…no. Not at all – clearly not at all. Why would you think –” Louis heard Gemma flush the toilet and the sink water run. He fell silent. This wasn’t particularly a conversation he was keen on Gemma listening in on. Harry sealed his lips together. Apparently, Louis wouldn’t be clarifying this right now. Fuck. This was going to screw him over, and he knew that, but there was no way he could continue this discussion with Gemma in the room. Just like his entire relationship with Harry, this would have to wait. 

 

Their night was spent in small bursts of conversation, nothing too serious, until Gemma began to nod off and her head found its way onto Harry’s shoulder. Louis watched as Harry delicately carded his fingers through her hair with his eyes glued to the television. His body felt like the floor had fallen from underneath him and he was in free fall when he imagined Harry as a father putting their daughter to sleep. He would be such a good father; he was made to be around kids. Harry was all big, bright, doe-eyes with an optimistic view of the World, no matter how many times it fucked him over. He was full of innocence at heart. Their daughter would probably be like that too. She might have brown wavy hair like Harry –  
Shit, wait – their daughter? Did he just imagine Harry with their daughter? Holy fuck. All in one day Louis imagined having sex with Harry and then raising children with him. He needed to shut up his mind because this was extremely unhealthy.  
It was about quarter to midnight when Gemma nodded awake and went back to the main house. No words were exchanged between Louis and Harry as they got ready to go to bed. It was evident that Harry was still upset since he was avoiding eye contact at all costs even after the lights were turned off and they were both lying face up in bed. He could feel Harry patting down the bedding and snuggling into the covers. Louis couldn’t take the silence anymore. He turned over on his side to face Harry.  
“Her name was Hannah.” He decided to explain. “The reason I dated her was because I hoped that maybe I was only attracted to you, not guys.” Harry paused his motions and after a few moments, whispered,  
“Why did you hope that?”  
“To name a few reasons: my parents, my upbringing, societal norms, intolerance of gay people…”  
“Then you figured out it was dicks, not me.” He stated with grim gloominess.  
“You’re saying it like I was only attracted to your dick.” Harry didn’t respond. “Harry, you know that isn’t even close to the truth. We grew up together. You were…” Should he say it? Oh fuck it, there was nothing to lose at this point. “You were everything to me. I didn’t know how to live without you. Hell, I still don’t think I ever figured out how to live without you.” Louis had to let out a forced chuckle to make himself feel a bit more at ease even though he was freaking out since he just admitted to Harry that he needed him in his life. Harry began to run the top of the sheets between his fingers. He still didn’t look at Louis. Louis needed to keep talking so he wouldn’t drive himself insane thinking of reasons why Harry had yet to respond. “If it makes you feel any better, I was cheating on Hannah with my roommate the majority of the time we were together, which was only, like, five months. Honestly, she didn’t mean anything to me. She was my last attempt of me trying to be my parent’s perfect son.” Harry stayed silent for a moment, but then he finally said something,  
“And then you decided to start being who you wanted to be?”  
“Yeah.” Harry turned over and looked at him. Louis breathed a sigh of relief to be able to stare into Harry’s eyes again. He didn’t think he could go on without seeing them. He savored this moment. The room was dark, but Harry’s eyes had that huge light emitting from them. They were a beacon of light to a sailor lost at sea. Louis didn’t understand how he got to be so beautiful. There was something about gazing into Harry’s eyes that made his stomach flutter with butterflies just like it did when they were younger. God, he felt like such an idiotic teenager when those butterflies began to dance around his entire body, but he didn’t want them to go away. The corners of Harry’s lips slightly rose up.  
“Good. I like the real you.” Oh God, the butterflies felt like they were eating away at his skin. Fucking mutant butterflies.  
“Thanks.” He softly spoke back.  
“I’m sorry for freaking out. I was being stupid about the girlfriend thing, and I’ve told my Mom more about you in these past few months than I’ve told her about Michael so she just kinda assumed…” that Louis was Harry’s boyfriend. He wondered why Harry couldn’t say that out loud. “My family has a problem with assumptions.”  
“It’s okay.” It crossed Louis’ mind how Harry’s Mom didn’t seem to have an immediate recognition of fucking Michael when Harry mentioned his name to her. His curiosity got the better of him. He had to ask: “Have they ever met him?”  
“No.” Harry told him. It sounded like a confession.  
“But you’ve been dating for two years…?”  
“It never felt right introducing him to my family.” Again with this not feeling right stuff…what would feel right? If none of Harry’s past boyfriends and fucking Michael didn’t feel right, what did?  
“Why?”  
“I dunno, I guess I’m still trying to figure things out…” ‘Aren’t we both’ Louis said to himself. Harry sighed. “Is it okay if we don’t talk about this? Sorry.”  
“No, it’s fine, I was just curious.”  
“Curiosity killed the cat.” Harry pointed out.  
“Good thing I’m not a cat then because my ass would’ve been run the fuck over years ago.” Harry cackled. They laid there simply staring at each other again. They didn’t need to talk. They could just lie down and gaze at each other and it felt like serenity. Louis could still make out the green in Harry’s eyes. Maybe Harry was a cat with his glowing eyes – not that they actually glowed…they just had a luminescent aura. It was always a weird phenomenon with Harry’s eyes. Everytime he looked into them, it was a fresh experience. There was something new to discover everytime. Louis could definitely get used to these moments lying in bed and studying one another…except that he shouldn’t since this could possibly be their last time sleeping in a bed together. Louis was way too emotionally attached to him. This wasn’t good.  
“You really have become an amazing man. You always were, but now…now you’re you.” Fuck, this was his own version of Hell to have Harry say these things and look at him like this and not be able to touch him or kiss him. He felt like he was going to split in two. Harry was driving him crazy.  
“You’re pretty damn spectacular yourself. If you would’ve told me back when we were teenagers that you would become a pediatrician saving the World’s next generation of children, I would’ve believed it, but it’s another thing to actually see it in person.”  
“Ditto.” They stayed in silence for a few moments looking at each other, then Harry said, “I’m so glad that you’re back in my life.” Fuck. How was he supposed to let Harry go after this?  
“Same here.” Harry contentedly sighed and closed his eyes. He looked so whimsical and impeccable with his eyes closed. Louis wasn’t sure how, but he could see the five-year-old Harry he first talked to on the playground all those years ago. He wondered how he would’ve reacted if he’d known back then that Harry was going to be such a vital part of his life. Maybe he would’ve made more of an attempt to get Harry to play with him. Maybe they wouldn’t have wasted so much time. Maybe Harry wouldn’t have needed to push Louis; maybe Louis would’ve figured things out sooner.  
“Thank you, again, for being here. I couldn’t have gotten through this without you.” Alright, that was it; if this was their last time sleeping together in the same bed falling asleep together, Louis wasn’t going to waste it. He couldn’t stop the temptation anymore. Louis reached out and held onto Harry’s hand.  
“That’s what I’m here for.” Harry peeked his eyes open for a second and looked at their hands. He laced their fingers together then closed his eyes again.  
“Thank you.”  
I love you.  
Louis wanted to say it. He wanted it more than he wanted anything else in the World. But he knew he couldn’t say it. Not now, anyway. He needed to say something else now.  
“Hey, Haz?”  
“Mmm?”  
“I just wanna set the record straight that no matter what I said back then, we were in a relationship.” Harry breathed out a laugh. Louis felt like he instantly shed a hundred pounds.  
“Only taken you sixteen years to realize that.”  
“At least I realized it.”  
“Yes, you did.” Harry’s voice was barely audible. He was definitely about to fall asleep. Louis took one last look at him before closing his own eyes. He felt himself nod off fast after that. Right before he fully crashed, he went to turn onto his other side only to realize he was still holding Harry’s hand. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but the next thing he knew, Harry was spooning him.  
“This okay?” He asked. Louis felt his hot breath trickling around his ear. His skin was so hyper aware of the newfound heat that his ears formed goosebumps around Harry’s words.  
“Yeah.” He held on a bit tighter to Harry’s hand. Harry’s grip tightened as well, both on Louis’ hand and on his arm holding Louis into his body.  
“Are you scared?” Louis paused. His mind flashed back to the first time Harry had asked him this question. They were in an extremely similar position, yet at a completely different point in their relationship. This was the one question that made him begin to think. It was the one that changed their entire relationship. The second time, Louis asked Harry this question, with the fear of leaving and where their relationship was going to go on the tips of their fingers. That was when they were limited. Both times, the question had been asked at a crossroad in their lives and in their relationship. Both times, their answer was yes. But now…now, this felt limitless. In this moment, their relationship had no boundaries. They could go anywhere and accomplish anything together. This was the feeling Louis had been waiting to possess for sixteen years. He wouldn’t let it go; he wouldn’t let Harry go. He focused on breathing, telling himself ‘In-out-in-out. This is right. This is where I’m supposed to be.’ Without thinking, he squeezed Harry’s hand.  
“Not anymore.” Harry leaned in and snuggled his nose into Louis’ hair.  
“Me too.”  
Those were the last words they spoke to each other that night.  
Louis fell asleep giving himself into the comfort and warmth of Harry’s body. 

 

It was when Louis stepped foot inside his apartment that the realization hit him: he couldn’t be alone anymore.  
He had come from a week of living in a huge house in the Raleigh suburbs with six people to an empty apartment on the fifth story of a complex building in center city Philadelphia. He had come from constant conversations with one person to the next, laughing and smiling, to quiet room, after room, after room. He’d come from sharing a bed with Harry every night to a bedroom that was far too large for one person. He’d come back from a home where a family shared their lives with each other to a place where he shared his life with the silence. It was a phantom presence: always there, but always untouchable. Louis needed something palpable and real.  
He reflected back on his goodbyes to each one of Harry’s family members. Rita left him with a warm hug, Alma left him with a wink, Gemma left him with her phone number and a promise to keep in touch, Robin left him with a firm handshake, and Harry’s Mom left him with a hug and a “I really am proud of you, don’t you ever forget that”. He didn’t know if he would ever see any of them again, and he didn’t want it to hurt if he didn’t, but he couldn’t stop those feelings of attachment at this point. Louis knew he was far too devoted to the family for his own good, but it was hard not to when they treated him like one of their own. Leaving them felt like leaving behind a part of himself. He wanted to be apart of a family – well, that was a lie.  
He wanted to be an official part of Harry’s family.  
But there was one problem with that and that was Harry not being in love with Louis. He knew for a fact that Harry was with fucking Michael right now because when Louis suggested that they get dinner when they got back to Philly – a not so subtle attempt at trying to make their time together last just a bit longer – Harry said “Ummm, I would, but Michael is taking me out. Sorry.” He should’ve expected that. Maybe the blow to his chest would’ve been softer if he did. After the taxi got to Louis’ building, Harry helped him haul his bags out of the car then gave him a sympathetic smile and a short hug. Neither of them said goodbye. Louis couldn’t physically say it because he didn’t want this to be the end. He had no idea why Harry couldn’t say it.  
There were too many thoughts racing in his head, and there was nothing in his apartment to distract himself from thinking about how alone he really was. He couldn’t take the silence anymore. It was too much, yet not nearly enough. He needed to get out.  
That was how he found himself at the doors of Lego House at 6pm on a Wednesday night. He figured that was his best place to go at this point in time. There would be work to get done, so he’d be productive while taking his mind off of everything he didn’t have. It was a win-win, really, because hopefully he’d be able to push off his impending breakdown.  
When he got to the building, he wasn’t expecting the front door of their office to be unlocked and the lights still on. Was somebody trying to rob the place? Maybe a burglar would be good for him: that would really take his mind off of his own problems. But that would be a really shitty burglary attempt to leave the door unlocked and all the lights on. Maybe someone was still here. Yeah, that was more likely.  
Louis walked around the main floor and saw that Liam’s office lights were the only one’s still on. That was weird: Liam barely ever stayed past 5:15 at night. He walked over to his office doorway and found Liam intently focused on his computer screen. His eyes looked extremely dry. He must’ve been working on something for a while.  
“Liam?” Liam’s head popped up and a surprised smile formed when he noticed Louis.  
“Hey!” He pushed his chair backwards and focused attention away from his computer. “When did you get back?”  
“About an hour ago.”  
“Oh,” He said in confusion, but he quickly wiped the look off of his face, “well, how was the past week?” Suddenly, memories played like a rapid fire montage in his head: the flight with Harry, meeting Alma and Rita, sharing the bed with Harry the first night, waking up next to Harry, Harry’s Mom in awe seeing him, the meals with everyone, playing Scrabble with Gemma, Gemma venting to him about her life, calling his Mom and Lottie, the funeral, holding a crying Harry in his arms, realizing he was in love, Alma telling him he was in love, staying up late at night with Harry talking about life and their beliefs – “That was a stupid question, I’m sure you have a bunch of stories to tell.” Louis nodded his head. It was all too much. All the memories and the emotions, Christ, when did he get so emotional? He’d never been so attached to something he couldn’t have before. It felt like suffocating in a sea of ‘what if’s and ‘but maybe’s. The feelings followed him wherever he went. There was no escaping it.  
They weren’t chashing him: they were a part of him.  
He felt like he should move, go into his office, check his email to begin to respond to the hundreds that had likely stacked up by this point, do what he came here to do, but he couldn’t. It wouldn’t even help. He was running a race with no finish line. His legs were frozen. Liam must’ve noticed the change in Louis’ conduct: “Why are you here?”  
“Didn’t feel like being at my place.” Liam’s head slightly tilted, obviously knowing that there was something behind that. Louis didn’t want to talk about the reasoning behind that, though, since he was well aware that he was on the brink and he had yet to sustain a full conversation with Liam. It’s not like he wanted to breakdown and cry during the first conversation he had with anyone after he got back. He likes to think he’s stronger than that. “What about you?”  
“Had to finish a blueprint.”  
“Which one?”  
“Harry and Niall’s.” Of fucking course. That’s it. He feels the top of his mouth heat up and a pressure nudge the backs of his eyes. He knows he’s about to cry. Great. Just fucking great. Here comes the breakdown. “Are you okay?” He tries to nod. It doesn’t work. Liam gets up out of his chair. “What’s going on?”  
“Nothing.” He weakly manages to get out.  
“Clearly something is – ”  
“No, Liam. Nothing. I have nothing.” A fat tear comes out and marks its trail down his cheek. Maybe the stronger thing to do right now isn’t to hide back, but rather to step forward and admit everything. Maybe embracing his vulnerability isn’t a sign of weakness: it’s just a part of being human. He knows he can’t stop this from happening. He finally accepts it. “I’m alone.”  
“What?” Liam’s now standing across from him and has his hands on both of Louis’ arms. His grip is firm and secure. Louis wishes that would make him feel more connected to another person. It doesn’t. “No you’re not.”  
“I don’t have a family.”  
“What are you talking about?”  
“I don’t have my parents, I’m barely hanging onto Lottie, Harry doesn’t – ” Louis let out an embarrassingly loud sob, “Harry doesn’t love me.” And that’s it. The tears stream down his face like a waterfall. Liam gives him a look that screams commiseration before he’s pulling Louis into a hug. It only makes Louis feel worse because he’s had it inadvertently confirmed by Liam that his life sucks. “Harry doesn’t love me.” He blubbers out again, just to reiterate the fact. Liam knows better than to ask how Louis’ aware of this, at least for now.  
“You’ll always have me and Zayn. We love you.”  
“No one’s gonna wanna have a family with me – ”  
“Hey, hey, yeah someone will.”  
“No they won’t.” He dropped his head onto Liam’s shoulder and sobbed into his shirt.  
“Wanna go to my place? I can call Zayn, we can all talk.”  
Louis feebly nodded his head. 

 

When Zayn got to Liam’s, Louis had finished draining himself of most of his available tear fluids. His head ached and all he really wanted was go to sleep, but he forced himself to stay up and explain everything through sniffles and burning eyes.  
“Wait, how do you know he was talking about you?” Liam asked.  
“He said ‘part of the reason I brought him here was to see if I still’.”  
“See if I still what?” Zayn asked.  
“I dunno, he didn’t finish the sentence.”  
“And then he said the stuff about ‘I don’t love him’?” Liam tried to clarify. The words still stabbed something inside of Louis.  
“Yeah.”  
“What if he wasn’t talking about you?”  
“He literally addressed why he brought me there, I don’t see how he wasn’t.”  
“Maybe he was talking about Michael.” Liam suggested. “What if part of the reason he brought you there was to see if he still had feelings for Michael or not?” Louis stopped that thought before it could manifest in his mind.  
“That’s stupid.”  
“Is it?”  
“Yes. Why wouldn’t he have just brought him then?”  
“He wanted to see what spending a week with you would be like, he wanted to know if he liked that better than spending time with Micha–”  
“He wanted you there, not Clifford.” Zayn cut in. “Your relationship with him is a thousand times more meaningful than his with that fucking dickhead.”  
“You don’t know that.”  
“I do know that Michael sounds like a selfish prick who cares more about himself than he cares about Harry. If Harry seriously has chosen him over you, he’s an idiot, but we don’t know if he has chosen him. All you’re going off of is context clues and they could be swayed in either direction.”  
“He’s right.” Liam agreed. “You’re going off of the interpretation that doesn’t favor you because you were taken off guard by the conversation, which you weren’t even involved in so you don’t know what Niall was saying, and if you go with this explanation, you won’t get your hopes up.” Okay, they were making some good arguments. Maybe Harry said those things about Michael, not Louis…that could make logical sense now thinking back on the conversation. “Personally, I think you’ve gone with the wrong interpretation.” At this point, it felt like betting on what side up a coin would fall: there were only two options, both with a fifty percent chance.  
“Why?”  
“Louis, think about everything that you two have done. It’s not platonic.”  
“Then why is he with fucking Michael right now?”  
“Why were you two spooning last night? You do understand that spooning is intimacy, right?” Zayn shot right back with. Liam continued with his train of thought,  
“You don’t know what’s going on. Last time you heard them talking they were in an argument.”  
“About me.”  
“How does that not raise any red flags to you?” Zayn posed. “If dickhead thinks you’re boning Harry, he thinks Harry wants you.” Louis couldn’t get his opinion in before Liam said,  
“His Mom thought you two were dating, his sister tried to get you to admit that there’s something there multiple times, he admitted to you that he didn’t introduce Michael to his family because it didn’t feel right to, and he was jealous when he found out about Hannah. I don’t understand how you’ve convinced yourself that Harry doesn’t feel anything for you.”  
“When I asked him what we were doing, he said we were best friends.”  
“Has it ever occurred to you that he may be afraid of being rejected by you?” What? That had to be Liam’s most stupid theory yet.  
“With everything I’ve been doing, I don’t see how he could think I’d reject him.”  
“You were together in the past and you rejected him.” He pointed out, and that…that was true. There was no denying that fact. Maybe it was reasonable to wonder if Harry thought Louis would reject him…but,  
“That was back then, though. This is now.”  
“So prove to him that you won’t reject him now.”  
“How do I do that without flat out telling him: I love you?”  
“You love him?” Zayn almost yelled. He didn’t realize this was the first time he admitted he was in love with Harry until he noticed that both Zayn and Liam were looking at him in astonishment. Apparently he left that out while explaining the past week. His bad. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged as an awkward affirmation. “You’re in love with Harry?” Zayn questioned in disbelief. Louis nodded. “Shit, I never thought this day would come. You’ve never said you loved anyone before.”  
“I never could say it before.” He admitted.  
“This deserves a toast.” Liam held up his beer bottle. Zayn followed along, and as stupid as he thought this was, Louis held up his glass.  
“To Louis.” Zayn announced. They all clacked their glasses together and took a swig.  
“The best advice I can give you at this point is that you have to fight for this.” Liam told him. “I wouldn’t worry about that, though, because you’re certainly the best fighter I’ve ever known.”  
“I just…” Louis ran a hand through his hair. “If he does end up liking me, do you really think he’ll give me a second chance?” Liam smirked,  
“If second chances didn’t exist, we’d all be alone.”  
And suddenly, Louis wasn’t so afraid.

 

The three of them ended up sleeping at Liam’s per Louis’ request. They understood. Louis didn’t mind sleeping horizontally on the bottom of his bed because at least he wasn’t sleeping alone; it was a good way to transition back from sleeping without Harry. At one point he woke up cuddling Zayn’s feet, and that was when he realized he couldn’t do this forever. He couldn’t keep taking his friends away from their lives so he could avoid his own.  
Louis decided he had to tell Harry that he loved him.  
Whether it was for the better or the worse, Harry deserved to know how Louis felt. Louis wouldn’t shut him out anymore. He would give Harry everything he was unable to in the past. He was ready for true commitment.  
In the morning, Zayn went back to his apartment to get changed. Louis wasn’t too keen on going back to his apartment, so he stayed at Liam’s, took a shower, and raided his wardrobe until he found something that fit. Liam was much broader than Louis had ever been, the apparent pros of being a fitness buff, so the shirt was two sizes too big, but the pants fit well so he couldn’t complain too much.  
His workday itself was full of terrors. Apparently every client and employee of his needed to complain about something or push him to get an obscure task done. He figured that’s what he deserved for unexpectedly leaving for a week. If this was his day, he couldn’t imagine what Harry’s was like. Instead of having one job, Harry was technically balancing two. During his lunch break, Louis texted him saying ‘hope your first day back at work isn’t eating you alive’. After dealing with one task, he’d check his phone. No reply. He’d deal with another then check his phone. No reply. The trend continued for the remainder of the day and Louis tried not to overthink it: Harry was at work so he wasn’t checking his phone. It was fine.  
Until it was 5:30pm and there was still no response.  
“You’re not staying here.” Zayn said from the doorway of his office. “You can sleep over my place tonight. I’ll order take out.” And how could Louis to say no to an offer like that?  
Zayn walked out of his office and within five seconds a smiling Perrie was in his arms. The two of them looked phenomenally smitten, totally lost in each other’s eyes. The transition between them happened amazingly quickly: just over a month ago they had been coworkers casually flirting with each other, and now they were a devoted couple. He never thought he would say it, but he was happy that Zayn had decided to take the chance and ask Perrie out on that first date. It was clear how much happier they both were, and that only seemed to lighten the mood of the entire office.  
Louis made up his mind that he was ready to take more risks.

 

“So…love, huh?” Zayn asked him, cigarette smoke cascading its way up into the air.  
“Yeah.”  
“Weird, isn’t it?”  
“Fucking terrifying is what it is.” Louis corrected him. Zayn chuckled,  
“It gets better.” Gets better? Was there something Zayn didn’t tell him about Perrie?  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah.” He affirmed with an air of bliss.  
“Something I should know?”  
“I’m in love with Perrie. Told her last week.” Louis shoved his shoulder into Zayn’s.  
“Congrats, man.” Zayn was trying to conceal his huge smile. By the way he and Perrie always looked at each other with total adoration, Louis wasn’t shocked by the news. “Can’t say I’m surprised, but that’s great.”  
“Thanks.” He was curious about how Zayn did it. Louis was in need of some sort of advice on how to go about admitting his feelings to Harry, so it’d be useful to know how Zayn went about it. “How did it go?”  
“Really well. She said it back.”  
“Wow.”  
“Yeah…”  
“Were you nervous?”  
“I thought I was gonna shit myself.” Louis laughed at that and Zayn joined in. It was good to know that Zayn was nervous; it soothed his apprehension about his own situation a bit. “In all seriousness, the more I thought about it, the more I regretted not asking her out sooner. I can’t imagine my life without her in it, not now, not in the future…I don’t want to, either.” Wait, did Zayn just imply he was going to marry Perrie one-day in the future? Okay, this shocked him.  
“So what, she’s it? She’s the girl?”  
“I guess we’ll find out.” Damn. Louis had seen Zayn be committed to other girlfriends in the past, but not nearly to the point where he said he couldn’t imagine his life without her or implying the possibility of marriage. This was a new type of dedication for him. Louis admired Zayn for taking that step in his life.  
“You ever think you’d hire the girl of your dreams?” Zayn smiled his shy half grin and took a huge drag.  
“Love never happens like you think it will.”  
“Isn’t that the truth…” He murmured.  
“Listen,” Zayn’s tone got much softer and he put down his cigarette, “I’m not saying this to change your outlook on life or any of that shit, but I honestly believe that Harry has feelings for you.” Louis’ organs wanted to start a new game of musical chairs. He wouldn’t let them, though.  
“And if he doesn’t?”  
“Then I’ll kick his ass for leading you on.” As much as Louis didn’t ever want Zayn to kick Harry’s ass, no matter what the outcome of their relationship was going to be, it was a nice gesture to offer. This was why they were friends.  
“Thanks, man.”  
“Anytime.” Zayn took another drag, “But really, I do believe there’s something there on his part.” Louis didn’t want to get his hopes up, but Zayn was making it difficult. He shrugged,  
“Hopefully.” They stayed in silence eating their food until Zayn asked,  
“Would you spend your life with him?” Louis didn’t need a second to answer that:  
“Yeah.”  
“Then it’s worth trying. Even if it doesn’t work out, at least you won’t always be wondering what could’ve happened.” Zayn explained to him. Louis knew he was right.  
“I’ve never wanted to give my entire life to someone else before…like, it’s fucking terrifying realizing that. Christ, Zayn, I imagined him putting our daughter to sleep.”  
“Our daughter?” He asked with a mocking smirk. Louis shook his head and mumbled,  
“Shut up.” Zayn let out a snort.  
“Shit, you’ve got it bad.”  
“Perrie owns your dick.” He retorted.  
“I’m totally fine admitting that she does.” Louis let out a chuckle.  
“The sex is good, then?”  
“Sex is fucking amazing. She rides me like…I can’t even explain it. One minute she’s an angel and the next she’s a professional porn star.” Oh God, that was a mental image he didn’t need. “I’ve never been with a girl like that before.”  
“Dammit, Zayn, I’m not gonna be able to look at her the same way again.”  
“Good, she deserves the recognition.” Louis found himself laughing in discomfort. Zayn stayed calmly silent for a few moments. “Did you and Harry ever have sex?” The question tugged one of the many strings attached to Louis’ heart. Louis answered truthfully.  
“I wasn’t ready at that point in my life; I thought if we had sex, then that would be like some kind of communion into being gay.”  
“Do you regret that?” Did he regret that? It was possibly one of the biggest regrets in his life. If he could go back in time and give his virginity to Harry, he would do it in a heartbeat. Louis felt extremely guilty that although Harry should have been a part of one of the biggest milestones in his life, he didn’t let him.  
“I regret a lot of things I did to him. I like to think I’m making it up now, though…or, at least, trying to.” Zayn stayed silent and took a drag of his cigarette. He exhaled a huge puff of smoke.  
“So do you regret not fucking him or what? Or him fucking you, whichever way makes you orgasm.” Leave it to Zayn to force out an answer to the pressing questions in life. Louis rolled his eyes.  
“Yes.”  
“To both?”  
“Yes.” He asserted with greater exaggeration.  
“Which do you like better?”  
“Jesus Christ.” Louis muttered under his breath. Zayn was still looking at him with expecting eyes and an amused smile, waiting for an answer. “Depends on the circumstance.” Zayn nodded like that was a suitable response.  
“Is it hard seeing him now and having to contain yourself from doing anything?”  
“Imagine putting your hand on a block of ice; it’s manageable at first, but the longer it stays on there, the more numb your hand gets. Soon enough, the pain becomes intolerable and you have to take your hand off before you get hypothermia. But then when you try to take it off, you realize that it’s been frozen onto the piece of ice and you can’t physically remove it, so the pain just becomes a way you live your life. That’s what it feels like.” He looked over at Zayn who had on a face of displeasement.  
“Shit.” Louis nodded.  
“Yeah.”  
“Hopefully you won’t have to go through that much longer.”  
“I’ve been hoping that for sixteen years.”  
“But now you can do something about it.”  
“He has a boyfriend.”  
“Who’s a dickhead.”  
“Still, isn’t it crossing a boundary if I tell him I want to be with him?”  
“If you don’t cross a boundary, how the hell do you expect to get into another territory?” And that was…a good point. A really good point. “Stop thinking; you know I’m right.”  
“Your modesty is through the roof.” Zayn smiled and blew smoke into Louis’ face. “I swear, if you give me lung cancer, you’re paying for all of my hospital bills.”

 

Zayn had a guestroom, so Louis had his own bed to sleep in that night. He still refused to go back to his apartment in the morning, so he called dibs on showering first. Zayn didn’t mind, though, because that meant an extra ten minutes of sleep for him. He decided to wear the pants Liam loaned him yesterday and take one of Zayn’s shirts, but that was a bit difficult considering Zayn had a long, skinny torso whereas Louis’ was a bit shorter and had a slight curve to it. Fucking love handles. The routine was extremely reminiscent of their days living together, which only made Louis miss living with someone even more. He really didn’t want to be alone.  
When they were in Zayn’s car driving to work, Louis felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He grabbed for it like it was the last thin mint in the cookie box.

From Harry: Hey! Sorry, yesterday was hectic. I hope work’s not giving you too much trouble

“Harry?” As if Zayn didn’t know Louis had been waiting for a response the entire night,  
“What gave it away?” Louis asked sarcastically.  
“Your Harry look.”  
“What the hell is a Harry look?”  
“You have this smile where your eyes get all…crinkly.” Louis didn’t know if he should be offended by that description or not.  
“Crinkly? Do I have wrinkles?” Zayn briefly glanced at him then back to the road.  
“Not too many.”  
“Not too many!” He exclaimed, “What does that mean?”  
“Calm down, everyone gets wrinkles at some point.”  
“Not when they’re thrity-four!” Louis pulled down the mirror on the sunvisor and examined himself. He noticed some prominent creases under and to the sides of his eyes.  
“Thirties are actually common for wrinkles to start appearing. I have some.”  
“Where?”  
“I’m getting some on my forehead.” Louis looked at Zayn’s forehead. There were barely any line indentations. Zayn would have clear, model-like skin until the day he died.  
“Oh, fuck off.” Zayn scoffed out a laugh.  
“You stress yourself out too much. Do I need to call Harry and make him give you a massage?”  
“I need you to stop pointing out how my body is giving up on me.”  
“Stop being so dramatic. They’re barely noticeable.”  
“If you notice them, then Harry will.”  
“So what?”  
“Who wants to be with someone who’s all wrinkly?”  
“If you love someone, you love everything about them, including all the things that person doesn’t like about themselves. They’re part of the reason of why someone will want to be with you. And if they don’t like them, then they can go fuck themselves.”

 

It was on Saturday morning at 11am when there was a knock on his door. Louis was extremely confused since to his knowledge, no one was supposed to be coming over. He looked through the peephole to see a guy standing there with a huge fruit basket, and then opened the door.  
“Hello?” He asked with caution.  
“Hi, Sir, how are you?”  
“Fine…”  
“I have a delivery for Louis Tomlinson.” Something had to be wrong.  
“I didn’t order – ”  
“Oh, no, it’s a gift. Here you go.” Someone got him a gift? The man handed over the huge fruit arrangement to Louis, along with a box of fruit truffles. “Have a good day, Sir.”  
“Yeah…you too.” Louis shut the door with his foot and placed the items on his kitchen counter to further survey them. The arrangement itself was placed in a mock purple tin flower pot and was composed of strawberries, apple slices, grapes, cantaloupe, and honeydew on sticks, as well as pineapple slices cut into the shapes of flowers and stars that were half dipped in chocolate. The box was filled with raspberry pieces covered in chocolate. He looked at the tag on the handle of the bouquet. It read: ‘Thank you berry much! I’m so grateful for you taking a week off of work to come to Raleigh with me. It means the World to have someone like you in my life. ~ Harry’  
Alright, what the hell? Harry got him a fruit basket as a thank you present? He got out his phone and texted him.

To Harry: You got me an edible fruit arrangement.

From Harry: Do you like it??

To Harry: It’s completely unnecessary, but yeah, thank you

From Harry: It was necessary. I hope the fruit is fresh!

Only Harry would do this. Harry was the only person Louis knew who would send a fruit basket to someone thanking them for coming on a trip that he invited them to go on in the first place. If anything, Louis should’ve sent Harry something. Maybe he should take him out to an expensive restaurant as a thank you. If he did take him out, maybe that would be the time to admit his feelings for Harry. It would be like killing two birds with one stone: ‘thanks for taking me to Raleigh, oh, and I’m in love with you’. Shit, no, an expensive dinner was way too cliché. He couldn’t make a big show out of it, but he couldn’t just watch TV with Harry and offhandedly throw in a “Hey, pal, I’m in love with you” at some point. That would be asking for trouble. Well, really, any way he went about this would be asking for trouble. By telling Harry how he really felt, he was risking their entire relationship; however, he would rather not be stuck in limbo for his entire life. The risk could either pay off or bite him in the ass. There was no in between at this point. Maybe they should just hang out one more time before Louis dropped the l-bomb. That way, he would have one more chunk of time guaranteed to be spent with Harry, as well as get some time to think through what he was going to say to him. But really, right now, he just wanted to see Harry. Louis missed him. He missed his face, his voice, and being in his presence. He hated transitioning to not seeing him everyday. That was exactly what he didn’t want in his life. Louis longed to be with him again. Tomorrow was Sunday, which meant that Harry had off, so maybe they could do something then. 

To Harry: It is, but the thing is huge and I doubt I’ll be able to finish it alone. Wanna come over tomorrow and help support the effort?

That was subtle, right?

From Harry: Sorry, busy tomorrow.

Oh…okay. That was okay. Harry had a life outside of Louis that he needed to live. They could get together another time.

To Harry: Oh, that’s fine. Are you free to hang out some other time? 

 

Louis suffered through Sunday. Harry had yet to reply to him. He debated texting him again, but he said he was busy and Louis didn’t want to interrupt his day or seem eager. Then Monday came along, and Harry still didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure why, but the stress from work wasn’t enough to take Louis’ mind off of him. He would find himself working on a project and suddenly he was wondering what Harry was doing and if he was okay. Then he would snap himself out of it because he realized that wasn’t productive.  
“It’s not healthy for you to be here past five-thirty.” Liam told him at the end of the day. “Get some rest and relax for once in your life.”  
“Easier said than done.” He responded.  
“I’m serious.” Louis glanced up at him. His hand was wrapped around the doorway and his fingers were rhythmically tapping the panel.  
“Why are you in a rush?”  
“Dinner with Danielle’s friends tonight.”  
“Her friends get to meet you before we get to meet her? I’m offended.”  
“You’ll meet her at some point.”  
“I better.”  
“Go home, Louis.”  
“I’ll see what I can do.” Liam shook his head, knocked twice on the door frame, and made his way out of the office. He knew Liam was right, but there was still a voice in the back of his head that told him Harry might come in soon with dinner, just like they had made routine of doing before they went to Raleigh, so maybe he should wait. It had been over a day so he figured it would be okay to text Harry and see if he wanted to have dinner or not. He couldn’t be too obvious, though, and just ask ‘you, me, dinner?’ No, he had to be subtle. Or did he? Maybe if he – shit. He was definitely overthinking this. Fuck it.

To Harry: Hey, how are you?

He placed his phone face up on his desk and looked out into the office. Honestly, it was becoming an hourly occurrence to see Zayn attached to Perrie, so it was no surprise to see him with a hand on her back as she gathered up her stuff and they walked out of the office together. Zayn caught Louis’ eye on their way out, and Louis gave him a curt nod, which he returned. He was happy for both Liam and Zayn since it was about time that they have serious relationships, but Louis wanted one of his own. Observing their lives was like a mirror into what Louis’ life could be like. The only problem was that it could easily not be like that. Harry could say no to him, and that was one of the most terrifying things about his situation. It struck fear into Louis and made him feel like he was paralyzed, especially when Harry still hadn’t responded half an hour later. Louis knew it was healthier to pack it up and go home, so he did.

 

Tuesday came along with the first day of April. Liam was filled with stories of his night with Danielle and her friends; Louis felt bad, but he tuned out while Liam was talking. Harry still hadn’t texted him back last night. He tried to not let that get to him, but it wasn’t working very well. Something had to be going on.  
The day went by in a horrible, boring, stressful blur.  
By the time noon came, it had been three days since he heard from Harry. Apparently he’d decided to drop off of the face of the planet without informing Louis, which was extremely discouraging. He was abandoning the hope that things might be able to work out.  
It seemed as though his motivation was dependent on whether or not Harry contacted him. Louis’ mind was in a constant worry of ‘Did I do something wrong? Did I say something? Does he not want to see me anymore? Is he avoiding me? Does he not want to be my friend anymore? Why isn’t he telling me what’s going on?’ until he forced himself to ask Liam and Zayn for their opinions. Liam told him he was overthinking the situation and needed to relax. Zayn told him he would go hunt Harry down and ask him what the hell he was doing. Louis dismissed both reactions. As considerate as it was, Zayn hunting Harry down wouldn’t do Louis any good since it would probably scare Harry off, and for once in his life Louis believed he wasn’t overthinking the situation. Maybe Harry didn’t want to see him anymore. Maybe Louis was right all along: Harry didn’t want to be with him. Those phrases, ‘I don’t love him’ ‘I’m not in love with him’ and ‘I don’t think I really ever was’ were about him. Maybe he had made up his mind and the fruit arrangement wasn’t a thank you, but rather a final goodbye to Louis. When he told Liam about this speculation, Liam responded with “You keep proving my point”, but the way he didn’t flat out tell Louis he was wrong only proved Louis’ own point: Harry was done with him.  
If Harry was done with him, then Louis would never be able to tell him how he felt.  
Fuck. He should’ve learned from the past and acted sooner. He shouldn’t have waited this long.  
He left the office before anyone else that day claiming he needed to get a start on his spring-cleaning. It was complete bullshit and everyone knew it, but no one questioned it when he was the first one out the door at 4:30 that afternoon. It felt strange walking outside when the sun wasn’t on its drastic descent westward.  
His apartment was undoubtedly unorganized considering he hated to clean. He neglected washing the dishes since Saturday and had yet to unpack and wash the clothes he brought to Raleigh last week, including all the clothes he didn’t bring that were currently strewn across his bedroom floor. Maybe he needed to do a bit of spring-cleaning afterall. Cleaning would give him less to worry about, but it would definitely occupy his mind for the time being. He went to crossing off those tasks on his ‘to-do’ list, and it surprisingly only took him an hour and a half. Continuing on his streak of momentary productiveness, he decided to exercise for the first time since he got back. He’d lost motivation to work out in the morning, which was kind of a nice thing; he was sleeping in later, but it wasn’t like he was getting more sleep considering that he was having trouble falling asleep and thus going to bed later on in the night. Apparently that’s what being stressed out about his life was doing to him.  
At 7:48pm, he was sitting on the couch watching TV, still clad in his sweat tainted workout clothes, and eating cereal with milk for dinner.  
Cloo-clop.  
There was a short knock. Louis had no idea why someone was at his door. He wasn’t expecting either Zayn or Liam to come over. Maybe it was a stupid friend of someone who lived on his hall that went to the wrong door. Louis wasn’t in the mood for dealing with people, so he hoped that the person would just realize they knocked on the wrong door and walk away. He lifted the spoon up to take another bite of his cereal, but a few decent sized drops of milk spilled onto his shirt.  
Cloo-clop.  
Apparently the person wasn’t going away and now his shirt had milk spilt onto it. Great. Just great. Groaning, he put the bowl onto the table, begrudgingly walked to his his door, and opened it, expecting to find some idiotic person in total confusion.  
“Hi.” What he certainly wasn’t expecting was to see Harry standing there with his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat and an apprehensive look of worriness on his face. Louis’ stomach lurched forward as if it were trying to run out of his body and towards Harry’s. Shit – Louis was wearing clothes with sweat and milk stains on them and Harry was here – wait, shit, Harry was here. Harry was here? Harry was here! After avoiding his texts for three days, he was at Louis’ apartment. Why was he here? What was going on?  
“Hey.” He tried to sound as calm as possible even though his organs felt like they were skydiving without a parachute.  
“Sorry, I should’ve called you or something before I came over.”  
“No, no, it’s fine.” Louis reassured him. Harry took in a shaky breath and nodded. He didn’t say anything; he only stared at Louis and bit his bottom lip. The rigidness of his body conveyed a look of quiet unease. Louis had no idea why Harry showed up unannounced, especially after he hadn’t returned Louis’ texts, and it was worrying him. “Are you okay?”  
“Ummm…yeah.” Harry sealed his lips together. Louis waited for a few moments, expecting Harry to give him a reason as to why he was at his apartment, but no words came out of his mouth. He just stood there, scuffing his shoes against the floor. Well, it looked like Louis wasn’t going to get any sort of explanation at this point in time. This was weird. What did he want from Louis? Why was Harry here if he didn’t have anything to say? And why was his entire body tensed up? Louis couldn’t continue to stand in the silence; it was extremely unsettling.  
“Do you wanna come in?”  
“Ummm…yeah…” Harry nodded to himself. It looked like he had to convince himself that it was okay to come inside. That didn’t help Louis’ nerves at all. “Yeah.” He answered more firmly. Louis retreated back into his apartment and Harry followed, closing the door after him. He didn’t walk in any further, though, instead opting to stand still and look down at the ground; he was shuffling his feet on top of each other. Harry was acting as if the area was completely foreign to him, like he was sailing into uncharted territory and was unsure if he should navigate forward or turn back around and go home. Louis was getting increasingly more and more annoyed as each second drug by. How could Harry fall off of the radar for three days, then show up out of the blue and act like…this weird, unfamiliar, mess? He didn’t understand what was going on in Harry’s brain. The lack of answers was stressing him out.  
“You can take your coat off.” He offered.  
“M’kay.” Harry slivered his jacket off and put it on the rack so it was lying on top of Louis’. No matter how much Louis hated the current situation, he liked the sight of their clothes mingled together, although, judging by Harry how was acting, he had a weird feeling he shouldn’t get used to the image. He tried to start a conversation in an attempt to distract his organs from inevitably smacking and splattering onto the ground.  
“Are you coming from work?”  
“Sorta.” Harry clasped his hands behind his back and slumped forward a bit. His shoulders were tensed inwards. “I had dinner with Niall.”  
“Did you go out?”  
“No, we went to his place. Amy cooked.”  
“Oh, nice.” Harry nodded with sealed lips. And the silence was back. Louis swore he was breathing in pure carbon monoxide, not oxygen. It was painful how nauseating their current interaction was. This wasn’t them. Part of him was wondering why Harry was here, another part was wondering why he didn’t answer his texts, and another part was wondering why the hell he was acting so strangely. He feared the worst: Harry had come over in person to apologize and say they couldn’t be friends anymore. It made sense. The way his body was wound up, how he was barely talking, the general on-the-edge vibe he gave off – something was wrong. Louis couldn’t just stand here in silence knowing what was about to happen. If Harry was going to end their relationship for good, fine. Maybe Louis deserved it for not acting soon enough, but he could deal with the ‘how come’s and represcussions later. This was now, and right now they shouldn’t avoid the inescapable. The conversation needed to happen. They shouldn’t drag this out like they did with the rest of their relationship. Louis took in a deep breath to prepare himself; it was like walking into battle knowing you were going to be killed, but sucking it up and not running away because that was only what a coward did. Louis wasn’t a coward. He was brave. He was a fighter. He could get through this, even if his heart didn’t feel that way. He had to do this. “So…what, uh…why are you here?”  
“I broke up with Michael on Sunday.” Louis’ organs smashed the ground. Holy shit holy shit holy shit Harry broke up with Michael holy fucking shit! Where the hell did that come from? “Can you just…don’t say anything for, like, a minute, okay?” Louis was stunned. He pushed away his pre-conceived ideas of where this conversation was going and nodded because he needed to know what was going on and Harry was about to explain it to him and shit, he needed to shut up. Harry took a deep breath: “Okay…so, ummm…I was gonna tell you on Sunday, that I broke up with him, but I didn’t think that would be ethical…I dunno, I’ve never done this before so I didn’t know what the moral thing to do in this sort of situation was…but that’s beside the point. I knew from the beginning that my relationship with Michael wasn’t what I wanted, but…I wasn’t sure what to do? I mean, I’ve been going through years and years of relationships that never felt right and I was frustrated, so I just decided to stop and try to settle. But, I was never happy with him because I knew it wasn’t right. Then you showed up two months ago, and I – I missed being around you and with you. I wanted to spend more time with you than with him. Then when we did start hanging out, something just clicked, and I…” Harry paused, his eyes flickering back and forth in between Louis’ own eyes like the answers to all of Harry’s questions were hidden in them. They lit up like he’d discovered buried treasure. “I only thought about you.” Louis’ breath caught in his throat; his lungs couldn’t handle the air. “You’ve literally been the only thought in my head since the first time I walked into your firm. When I’m around you, I feel like…I feel like things are finally right.” And that was it. Those were the magic words. Louis never thought he would hear them, but here he was. The words levitated up into the air and Louis needed to capture them before they soared away. “I’m happy with you, happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. I feel like the best version of myself when I’m around you. Being with you is the feeling I’ve been searching for. No, actually, it’s…it’s better than what I’ve been searching for because it’s you. It’s always been you.” Gravity shut off. Louis was floating. He was up in the air, surrounded by all of those words and Harry. His feet would never touch the ground again. “I had given up on seeing you again, but suddenly you were here, and I still feel the same way I did back then, except more.” More. Moremoremoremoremore. “You’re so…God, you’re so amazing, Louis. You always were, but you’ve changed so much, and you’re even better now, which I thought was impossible, but you prove me wrong every day. You just…you blow me away. You’ve shown me that anything is possible. When I look at you, I see how much I can accomplish. You inspire me to be a better person. I feel like nothing’s out of the realm of possibility so long as I’m with you.” Louis’ heart was swelling up to be ten times its original size by the second. His chest couldn’t contain it. His body felt too small. It couldn’t control this overwhelming feeling of ecstatic joy and affection and adoration and happiness and – and love. This was love. “I still wanna be with you, but differently, if that, ummm…if that makes sense? I mean, our current relationship is great, and if you wanna keep it that way then we can, but I think if we gave us another shot…we could be something really, really, really incredible.”  
This was it.  
Louis felt his body burst as his ribcage split open. An explosion demolished all those walls he once built up in defense. The barriers he shielded himself with were cracked and breached. Everything he once hid erupted out of his body and spilt out right in front of Harry’s feet. There was nothing left to guard and no more left to stow it away with – no more barricades, or obstructions, or embankments. They were all gone. The feeling was violent, and harsh, and merciless, but Louis has never felt more alive in his entire life.  
He’s here, living in the now.  
The dam is destroyed.  
“I’m in love with you.”  
“What?” Louis breaks out into a huge grin. The smile overtakes his entire face. Everything in his body feels egnited. It’s like a forest fire that can’t be contained, or a tidal wave that can't be prevented. It’s a force of nature that can’t be stopped. For the first time in his entire life, Louis is truly free. He has no shackles or chains fastening him down. There’s nothing holding him back – no more presumptions or expectations or restraints.  
He’s finally himself.  
“I’m in love with you.” He repeats. Harry stands there for a moment, his face a blank, emotionless slate.  
“Really?” Louis doesn’t waste a second; he walks forward and uses his hands to cup Harry’s cheeks. Finally – finally, he was touching Harry like he’d wanted to for years, his skin tangible and real. Louis strokes his thumbs over Harry’s soft, plump, warm cheeks, feeling his heartbeat race through them as the vibrant red color of his skin increases. He looks into Harry’s eyes and see’s an endless abyss of colors to be searched through and thoughts to be discovered.  
Most importantly, though, he see’s his own reflection in Harry’s pupils. He’s the only thing Harry sees, and he knows that his pupils look exactly the same, but with Harry’s reflection in them. They’re a part of each other. They always had been, but now…now Louis can actually see it.  
And that’s without a doubt one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.  
“I love you, Harry. I’ve been in love with you since…I don’t even know, but it’s been a really long time. I – ” Harry’s eyes are brimming with tears and a wobbly smile is forming on his face. He moves his hands to latch onto Louis’ forearms. It’s as if he needs some sort of support to keep him standing. Louis swears in that moment that he will always be Harry’s pillar; he’ll never let him down again. “I’m so in love with you.”  
“Can I kiss you?” Louis lets out a short laugh: this is absolutely incredible.  
“Yeah.” He gently pulls Harry in until their noses barely ghost each other. The only thing Louis smells is Harry. The only thing Louis feels is Harry. The only thing Louis wants is Harry. The only thing Louis needs is Harry. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for this.” He whispers.  
“Fifteen years – ” Harry quietly sniffles, “and ten months.” Louis’ face is surrounded by Harry’s heat. His breath cloaks Louis’ skin in a warm embrace. This closeness to Harry is all he needs to feel complete for the rest of his life.  
“I’m glad you’re being exact.”  
“One of us has to be.” Louis chuckles at his response, which makes Harry giggle as well. Louis retorts the only way he finds suitable:  
“Kiss me, you fool.” He feels Harry nod in his hands. Louis’ heartbeat is pounding on his lips, eager in anticipation to feel what they’ve been missing for fifteen years and ten months. He tilts his chin up and slants his head to the right; their lips are perfectly lined up. The only thing left to do in order to close the space is for one of them to move forward. Louis shuts his eyes. If the increase of heat is anything to go by, Harry’s moving extremely close to Louis’ face. Their breathing feels like it’s from one person, not two. Louis pucks his lips out ever so slightly, and then –  
Softness.  
A smooth, silky, moist, plump, beautiful, breath-taking softness.  
Louis’ lips on Harry’s. Harry’s lips on Louis’.  
They’re kissing.  
Louis and Harry are finally kissing after all these years.  
Yet, it doesn’t feel like years…or months, or weeks, or days, or hours, or minutes, or even seconds, for that matter. It’s total and complete muscle memory. Louis’ lips know Harry’s like they know the feeling of air. They naturally form to the surface. It feels like an old habit resurfacing. The sensation is extremely familiar, and ecstatic, and awe-inspiring, and comforting. His lips finally feel at rest.  
This, here, him kissing Harry, feels like home.  
Harry pulls away with a soft, audible ‘pop’ as a trail of spit grows between their mouths, but still connects them together. Louis can’t help but laugh at that, because it’s just so disgustingly beautiful, and he leans his forehead to rest on Harry’s. Harry immediately follows on board, and his laugh reminds Louis of the blossoming of flowers after a long, dreadfully cold and brutal winter. Louis can’t stop looking at Harry’s lips, feeling amazingly overwhelmed that he can kiss them whenever he wants to. They’re this obscene, rosey, pink color, and even in Harry’s widest grin, they still maintain their heart-like shape. He can see little stubbles of hair beginning to sprout below Harry’s nose, and he kind of wants to run his nose along them, so he does. They’re barely long enough to feel the ruggedness of a scruff, but they’re miniscule bumps that send a buzz through Louis’ nose. He feels Harry’s hands detach from his forearms and move to the back of his neck, where he has a firm grip at the base of his hairline, slowly massaging his fingers into Louis’ skin.  
“I’m in love with you too.” Harry tells him in a deep, airy voice. Louis’ heart does a triple back flip in the air and wow, this is actually happening. This is real life. Louis knows this is reality because he’s really here. He moves his head back a bit so he can look Harry in the eye.  
“You are?” Harry nods.  
“I always have been.” Louis has no other option but to pull him back in. Their lips slot together on instinct this time. It’s not a long, tender peck like a few seconds ago; it’s an emotional kiss, straight off of the page where they left off fifteen years and ten months ago. Harry’s lips are wet and surrounding Louis’ every action. When they move their heads back ever so slightly to gain leverage to push even deeper into each other, their lips are stuck together like glue. Their kiss is languid, both knowing that there’s no reason to rush. Time no longer matters. It’s just them and this moment and love.  
Love.  
This is love.  
Louis feels a wet drop on his cheek, which is definitely not from either one of their mouths, so he breaks the kiss this time and looks at Harry, whose eyes are rimmed with red. The blue on the margin of his irises are a piercing, vibrant pigmant, as are the multitudes of endless green arrays inside of them. His eyelashes are wet, which only elongates them and makes them darker. Louis thinks he’s gorgeous. They’re not large tears falling from his eyes, just tiny droplets that Louis uses his mouth to softly peck away, enjoying the way the salty liquid tastes.  
“Sorry. I don’t mean to cry so much around you, I swear, there’s just…a bunch has been happening recently so it’s a lot to take in. It’s kinda overwhelming. I feel like I’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster. This is just…a lot. In a good way.” Louis pecks Harry’s lips one more time before nudging their noses together.  
“I don’t care if you cry. I understand everything that’s happened has been a lot to deal with in a really short amount of time, but…Harry, you’re amazing. You’re one of the only people I know who could handle this much. You’re a courageous, kind-hearted, and selfless fighter. If anyone is inspiring anyone around here, you’re the one who inspires me to be a better person: you always have. You knew me, accepted me, and believed in me before anyone else did, especially when I couldn’t. You’re the reason I want to achieve so much. I’m so proud of you and the man you are; I just want you to feel the same way about me.”  
“You do. God, Louis, you do without a doubt. I’m so in love with you.”  
“I’m pretty fucking in love with you too.” Harry beams at Louis with a giggle as another small tear falls down from his eye. Louis uses his thumb to wipe it away and shakes his head. “You’re gonna have to stop crying soon or you’re gonna make me start.” He tells Harry with a chuckle.  
“These are happy tears, I promise.” Louis kisses away the last tear and hopes it’s the last time he’ll see Harry cry for a long time.  
“You still look perfect to me.” Harry’s grip on the back of Louis’ neck tightens.  
“Really?”  
“You always do.” Louis admits with complete ease. He loves this new ability: he doesn’t have to think before telling Harry his true feelings. He also loves the ability he has to make Harry’s smile shine brighter than a supernova.  
“I think you’re perfect too. And handsome, like…really, really, really handsome.” For a slim moment, Louis has trouble believing this, considering that he’s in sweaty, milk-stained clothes, but Harry’s in love with him. Shit – Harry’s in love with him. And if Harry’s in love with him and he can say that to Louis when he looks like this, then…yeah. Louis does believe him.  
“Thanks, babe.” The nickname flows out of Louis’ mouth like he’s been calling Harry that for ages. In a way, though, he always has been Louis’ ‘babe’. Harry croons at the name.  
“I like you calling me that.”  
“Babe?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Well, babe, do you have any idea how nervous you made me when you showed up here?”  
“You were nervous?” Harry asks in embellished astonishment, “I thought I was gonna puke on your floor.”  
“That’s why you freaked me out! I thought you were here to tell me in person that you didn’t want to be friends anymore.”  
“What? How did you get that impression?”  
“You didn’t respond to any of my texts then randomly showed up at my door.”  
“That was because I didn’t want you to think you were a rebound so I was waiting – ”  
“I know that now.”  
“You’re not a rebound.” Harry tells him, clearly fearful that Louis’ not on the same page as him. They are on the same page, though, so Louis reassures him,  
“I know, babe.” Louis debates in his head if he should mention the whole phone conversation he heard Harry have with Niall. He’s certain that Harry was referencing fucking Michael, but a part of him wants to have it verbally confirmed by Harry.  
“What are you thinking?”  
“I may have overheard you talking on the phone to Niall last week.”  
“You were spying on me?”  
“Not spying, just…using my ears.” Harry buries his head into Louis’ shoulder and giggles. “You were talking about part of the reason why you brought me to Raleigh, then proceeded to say ‘I don’t love him’, ‘I’m not in love with him’, and ‘I don’t think I ever really was’. Please tell me that was about Clifford.”  
“Yeah; part of the reason I brought you there was to see if I had feelings for him or not, and I realized that I didn’t. I also realized that I couldn’t do anything with you while I was with him, because you don’t deserve that. I want to give you everything, and I couldn’t give do that when I was with Michael.” Louis inwardly groans at himself for thinking that Harry was talking about him. He owes Liam and Zayn an apology for being a stubborn, paranoid prick about it.  
“You are such a…mmm.” He says, moving his hands down to bunch in Harry’s shirt and banging his forehead on Harry’s chest.  
“Did you think I was talking about you?”  
“Yes.”  
“Serves you right for spying on me.” He can hear the smile in Harry’s voice, and he can’t help but smile. Wow, he feels stupid.  
“Yeah, yeah.” Harry uses his right hand to grip Louis’ chin and tilt it upwards so they’re looking right at each other.  
“You’re my first choice. You always have been.” Harry’s cheeks are bunched up as he smiles and Louis notices the laughter lines surrounding his mouth. The look on his face is pure fondness, and Louis has never felt so blessed in his entire life. He feels honored that someone looks at him like that, but he feels like the luckiest man in the Universe that it’s Harry who’s looking at him like that. The mutant butterflies are dancing around his entire body.  
“You’ve always been my first choice too.” Harry pulls his chin forward and Louis closes his eyes right before their lips meet. The feeling of their lips caressing each other is probably the greatest feeling Louis has ever felt. God, he still can’t get over this kissing thing. He’s kissing Harry. It’s just a thing that they do. This is a HarryandLouis mannerism that now occurs whenever, wherever. Louis feels his stomach swoop. The thought overwhelms him so much that he ends up giggling into Harry’s lips. He feels Harry giggle too, both of their lips stretching out and teeth clacking together. Louis pulls away, still grinning like a maniac. “Sorry, I’m just happy. Really happy. You make me really happy.”  
“You make me happy too.” Harry tells him in that rich, sultry voice of his. His eyes move up to Louis’ hair, and he pushes a strand out of his face. Louis has never felt more adored in his entire life. “Anything else that mislead you?” He asks. Louis knows it’s stupid, but he feels the need to mention it anyway,  
“The fruit bouquet.”  
“What?” Harry questions with a confused smirk. “How is that misleading?”  
“I thought it was a goodbye present.” Harry’s face rises up while he tells Louis in a teasing ‘you’re so dumb’ tone,  
“I literally attached a card to it letting you know it was a thank-you present.”  
“Yes, but that was before you stopped responding to my texts.”  
“Okay, fine; in retrospect, I’ll admit that not responding to you wasn’t one of my smarter decisions.”  
“You,” Louis lifts his hand up to tap Harry on the nose, “had me unnecessarily worried. I was about to reevaluate my entire life.”  
“Sorry.”  
“It’s okay.” Louis strokes Harry’s face with his right hand and Harry contentedly exhales under the attention, leaning his face into Louis’ hand. “Out of curiosity, when were you planning on telling me all of this if not tonight?”  
“I dunno…I’ve been thinking about you nonstop since we got back – not that I wasn’t thinking nonstop about you before that, but it became excessive after we got back. Even when I was breaking up with Michael, I was thinking about you, and when I was gonna tell you, and how I was gonna tell you, but I hadn’t really figured out the method in which I was gonna do that…I think Niall finally got sick of me not doing anything about it tonight; he told me I needed to do something or else he’d stop associating with me, so I came here.” And bless Niall Horan, honestly.  
“Remind me to thank him.”  
“We can send him a fruit arrangement – or, wait, would that be misleading?” Harry giggles at his own joke and Louis playfully shoves his chest with little to no force whatsoever.  
“Shut up.” Harry uses his nose to nudge Louis’ forehead, then places a soft kiss there. God, he’s adorable. “I was gonna tell you I loved you if I ever got a hold of you.” Harry’s eyebrows rise in true shock at that.  
“Really? Even if I was still dating – ” Louis stops him,  
“Don’t say his name; he’s irrelevant and I want him gone from both of our lives forever.” Harry runs his hands up and down Louis’ arms and looks at him with a mischievous grin.  
“Possessive much?”  
“Yes.” Louis states. “And yes, I was still gonna tell you because I needed you to know.” Harry uses his grip on Louis’ arms to pull them closer together.  
“I’m glad you did it tonight.” He tells Louis in a hushed, seductive tone.  
“I’m glad I didn’t faint while doing it.” Harry chuckles at the comment,  
“That wouldn’t have been good.”  
“Probably not.” Their bodies have moved so close together that they’re standing chest to chest. Louis loves how compressed their forms are. They feel like two souls compacted into one body.  
“I never thought – I mean, I wished…but I didn’t think this would happen. Of course this is better than anything I ever could’ve imagined but…I’ve been dreaming about this since our graduation.” The heat from their two bodies combines into one, and the temperature would be extremely uncomfortable if it only belonged to Louis. However, he’s sharing it with Harry, who, like Louis, has been dreaming of this moment for fifteen years and ten months. Maybe that’s a bit more overwhelming, and only raises the heat level, but it also makes Louis fall a bit more in love. He feels the need to tell Harry how he feels once again because he finally can.  
“I love you so much.” Harry grins from ear to ear and moves his hands to the back of Louis’ neck once again.  
“I don’t think hearing that will ever get old.”  
“Good, because I’m not gonna stop saying it.”  
“That’s perfectly fine with me.” Louis leans up and kisses Harry as a sort of non-verbal, yet oral agreement of ‘me too’. Harry instantly understands and pushes his head forward to strengthen the force that he’s kissing Louis with. Louis lets the pressure take total control over his body and he finds himself melting into Harry’s lips. His head is being pushed back and Harry’s tongue is flicking out between Louis’ lips. He feels the kiss rapidly intensifying and he wants to let it, but he just needs to clear up one more thing before he fully gives himself over; he knows if he doesn’t ask now, he’ll regret it later. Louis pulls back, which seems to startle Harry if the way his eyebrows scrunch up are anything to go by.  
“You’re sure you really want this?” Harry looks at Louis like he’s asked him if rain is wet. “Don’t look at me like that; I just…I need to give you a fair warning that I wanna settle down.” Suddenly, Harry’s face completely melts and is full of tender, warm, and intimate endearment. Louis swears he sees sparks flying out from Harry’s eyes.  
“I want that too.” If Louis thought he was on cloud nine before, he’s certainly been catapulted into oblivion now, and it’s all because of this spectacular man in front of him.  
“You do?”  
“Yeah, more than anything.” Of course he’s shocked, but how could he not be in this situation? This is what he’s dreamt of for years, and now it’s reality playing out right in front of his eyes.  
“So…would you wanna try that with me?”  
“I would.” Those words are better than any story he’s ever been told, preferable to any fantasyland he’s ever created, and superior to any scenario he once imagined. This is the real World, and Harry actually wants true commitment to Louis. He still wants to double check, though.  
“You know I’m not leaving.”  
“I’m not leaving either.” And that’s it. That’s all the confirmation Louis needs.  
“Alright, then lets make this official.” He grabs Harry’s hands from the back of his own neck and grips them as tight as possible in the barely existent space between them. “Harry Styles, will you be my boyfriend?” Harry fervently nods,  
“Yes.” Louis knows he’ll always remember the current expression on Harry’s face. He looks like he’s about to burst out of his skin. His green eyes are admiring Louis as though he’s just performed a miracle, like raising someone from the dead. His cheeks are full and plentiful like those of a cherub with the most beautiful smile. If Louis could give him angel wings right now, he would, because Harry has been like a guardian angel to him; Harry is his own personal saint, and that’s all Louis needs to be happy and fulfilled with his life. Besides, no one has ever let Louis fly before. Maybe he should give Harry a halo while he’s at it. “Only if you’ll be mine, though.” He gives Harry an affectionate ‘duh’ expression.  
“Because I’m really gonna say no to that.”  
“Just making sure.” He tells Louis in a mocking tone.  
“Yes, I will be your boyfriend.” His hands have found their way to the back of Louis’ neck and he’s pulling his face in. Louis’ hands have taken residence wrapped around Harry’s back. Harry’s focus has shifted to Louis’ lips and Louis feels his gaze drop down to Harry’s as well. He whispers a low,  
“I love you.” And Louis reciprocates with a soft,  
“I love you.” Then they’re both pulling each other in as their lips crash together. It’s not soft, sweet, or languid, but instead fierce, powerful, and passionate. Both of their mouths open in tune with each other and Louis pokes his tongue out to quickly run along the top of Harry’s bottom lip. It’s ample and wet with Louis’ saliva. Harry reciprocates by moving his tongue out so it meets Louis’ in the middle, both of them sliding together with ease. It feels like both of their tongues are praising one another with long licks. Their breath quickly syncs up so whenever Harry breathes out, Louis breathes in, and whenever Louis breathes out, Harry breathes in. They’re literally breathing in each other and Louis is far too amazed and turned on for his own good. He uses his fingers to tug at the back of Harry’s shirt, successfully pulling it out from where it’s tucked into his pants, the hooks them into the belt loops and pushes Harry’s hips forward into his. He feels Harry’s breath stutter a bit in his mouth, and that’s the only encouragement Louis needs to push Harry’s tongue back and enter Harry’s mouth. He lightly presses his tongue down on the middle of Harry’s and hears a deep,  
“Mmm.” Louis flicks his tongue to the tip of Harry’s then retreats back to see what Harry will do. Harry moves his tongue into Louis’ mouth, softly pressing his tongue onto Louis’, and the satiny, pulpy feeling sends Louis’ nerves on a wild goosehunt all around his body. He keeps slightly searching further and further back in Louis’ mouth, and that combined with the pressure their hips are exerting onto each other makes Louis’ breath feel like fire. Louis moves his hands down to Harry’s perky buttcheeks and squeezes. He feels Harry’s dick twitch against his, and, yeah, Louis is getting really hard, really fast. Harry pulls away with a gasp,  
“Sorry, weird question, but…” Harry has to pause to take an deep inhale because his breathing is so labored, “where exactly are we in terms of, umm…this? Like…are we taking it slow or, ummm…” Fuck, that’s probably something they should’ve established earlier. Louis is seriously regretting that because he knows the only way he’ll be able to stop himself at this point is if he sits on an ice pack.  
“Did you wanna take it slow?” He asks with caution.  
“Not really.” Louis silently thanks the Universe. “But if you want to – ”  
“God no, you do realize that I’ve been waiting for this to happen for just as long as you, right?” Harry grins and uses his hands to tenderly massage the skin under Louis’ jawbone. It feels like Heaven.  
“Because you love me.” Harry states.  
“You’re awfully confident in yourself.”  
“I am, because you love me.” Louis fondly rolls his eyes. “Say it again.”  
“I,” He places a kiss on Harry’s forehead, “love,” a kiss on top of Harry’s nose, “you,” and finally a chaste kiss on his lips, “and I will be telling you that countless times in the future, boyfriend.” Just saying the word and knowing it’s one of Harry’s titles now is insane to Louis. It drives him mad with the undying devotion he’s had for Harry since…since forever. Well, not forever, but it certainly feels like an eternity, and this eternity will only continue.  
“Boyfriend.” Harry repeats after him. Louis could definitely get used to this eternity.  
“Besides, we’ve been taking it slow enough for sixteen years, in my opinion.”  
“Okay, yeah, cool, I think so too.”  
“I am gonna take you out on dates, though.” Louis feels the need to say. Harry looks extremely impressed.  
“You’re gonna wine and dine me?”  
“Of course. I plan to be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.”  
“You already are. It’s not even a competition.” The words make Louis’ stomach flip upside down.  
“Good.” He moves forward and uses his nose to push Harry’s collar away from his neck, then muzzles into the skin there. He really does love this man more than he knows what to do with it.  
“Although…” The vibrations from Harry’s throat travel all around Louis’ face. He basks in the connectedness of their actions. “Seeing you get jealous was kinda entertaining.” That motives Louis to bare his teeth and use them to just barely graze over Harry’s skin.  
“You enjoy seeing me suffer?” He whispers with a twang of tease.  
“I enjoy seeing you so protective of me.” Louis notices Harry’s voice is becoming raspy. He can practically hear the desire flowing out of Harry and he has to stop himself from devouring him right then and there.  
“I’ve always been protective of you.”  
“I know. I think that’s part of the reason why I couldn’t physically be with him anymore. Last time I kissed him was more than three weeks ago.” Louis lightly digs his teeth into Harry’s neck, making him gasp. He’s gripping onto Louis’ hair like a lifeline. “You were all I thought about.”  
“I want you to forget his name.” Louis moves up and nips the bottom of Harry’s earlobe.  
“Mmm?” He hums out from the bottom of his throat. “And how do you suggest I do that?” It’s like Harry’s setting him up and Louis could just pounce, but he doesn’t want this to be quick. He wants this to last.  
“I’ll make you moan my name loud enough it gets rid of any memories you’ve had with anyone else.” Harry bunches Louis’ hair in his hands and tilts his head to the side, giving Louis better biting access.  
“That’s a good plan.”  
“I think so too.” He attaches his lips to Harry’s neck and sucks. Slowly, he begins to push his tongue out and lick small circles, then he sinks his teeth into the skin. Harry lets out a hiss and bucks his hips forward while moving his feet closer to Louis’. Louis realizes Harry’s still wearing his shoes when he accidentally steps on Louis’ bare foot and Louis yelps. Harry immediately backs away.  
“Shit! I’m sorry!” Louis shakes his head and points down to Harry’s feet,  
“Can you take off your shoes?”  
“Can you take off your clothes?”  
“No, but you can do that for me.” He tells him as Harry toes off his shoes and pushes them aside.  
“Cheeky.” Louis grabs Harry’s hand and pulls him,  
“Bedroom.”  
“Race you.” Harry says with waggling eyebrows. He lets go of Louis’ hand and begins moonwalking backwards down the hall, his arms flailing in some weird sort of wave motion in front of his body and his eyes glued to Louis the entire time. Louis breaks into hysterics.  
“You’re so stupid.”  
“You’re stupid enough to be in love with me.”  
“Yes, I am!” Louis yells before sprinting towards him. Harry’s face rises up in jovial shock as Louis runs up to him, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and pushing him back.  
“Ahh!”  
“You’re a menace to society, Harry Styles.” He murmurs into Harry’s chest.  
“But I’m your menace, Louis Tomlinson.” Harry tells him with his hands clutched in Louis’ hair.  
“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Louis begins unbuttoning Harry’s shirt from top to bottom. Harry just smiles down at him, letting Louis guide him as he walks backwards into the bedroom.  
“Because we’re dating.”  
“We are.”  
“And you’re my boyfriend.”  
“I am.” The backs of Harry’s knees hit the edge of Louis’ bed, and they buckle underneath him as he plops down onto his back. The entirety of Harry’s shirt is now unbuttoned, and Louis pushes the fabric open to gain access to Harry’s chest. The most prominent feature is the way that his body has aged and matured; it hits Louis like a block of bricks. His body is full now, not just muscle and tight skin like it was when they were teenagers. He’s loose, but put together and moderately toned. Those four nipples are still there. The hair leading down from his belly button is much coarser and darker than Louis remembers, and he’s exited thinking about where that trail will lead. But right now, in this very moment, Harry has clasped his ankles around Louis’ calfs to pull him in, and Louis can’t help but run his hands all over Harry’s chest. His skin is burning. He glides his hands up to rest right on top of his heart. Louis feels the pulse beating on his hand, a rhythmic thump..thump..thump..thump.  
Louis thinks he’s absolutely breathtaking.  
“You okay?” Harry asks while using his hands to latch onto Louis’. Louis realizes his hands must’ve been laying on top of Harry’s heart for a minute or so now, which is why Harry sounds so concerned. Louis lets the truth flow out of him.  
“You’re so beautiful.” The tops of Harry’s lips slightly rise forming a smirk of pure appreciation. He doesn’t say anything; he just takes Louis’ hands, brings them up to his mouth, and kisses them, one knuckle at a time. He gives each one the same, long, generous peck, like they’re the only things that matter. Louis’ heart swells up; it’s not everyday he’s with someone who adores his knuckles. He doesn’t know how Harry does it: he doesn’t understand how Harry can make him feel overwhelmingly loved without saying any words. “I love you.” It flows out of his mouth before he even thinks it. Harry continues until he’s kissed each one of Louis’ knuckles, then gazes up at Louis.  
His eyes are full of wonders, really. It’s weird that the colors in them haven’t aged a day since their graduation, fifteen years and ten months ago. Jade, emerald, honeydew, pine, mint, pastel, pistachio, fern, cadmium, and deep sea green all fused together to create the most stunning, winsome, and alluring eyes Louis has ever seen.  
“Come down here, I miss you.” Harry tells him while pulling Louis’ arms down. Louis bends his body to lean over Harry’s torso and presses their lips together. They effortlessly begin where they left off and their tongues are falling into an extreme game of tag. Neither one has really taken control; they both follow each other’s lead. They fuse and meld their lips together into something bigger than both could possibly be on their own. It feels like a union instead of an imbalance. Harry uses his hands to cover the expanse of Louis’ ass and he kneads his cheeks with unhurried movements. It’s amazing that he can entirely cup Louis’ ass with only his hands. His palms press inwards, pushing Louis forward so both of their pelvises line up together. Louis finds himself becoming more lustful as the seconds go by, and it’s getting to the point where he can really only focus on the feel of his blood rushing downwards.  
Harry’s shirt needs to come off right now.  
Louis pushes Harry’s sleeves down his arms as far as he can. Harry gets the memo and lets go of Louis’ ass to shrug off the sleeves. He lifts his torso up so Louis can grab the shirt and throw it who knows where – he doesn’t really care where it ends up so long as it’s not on Harry anymore. Harry tugs the hem of Louis’ shirt, and Louis swiftly discards his shirt in one movement, throwing it away from their current position. Harry’s eyes are focused downwards on Louis’ chest, and he runs his hands over the skin. Louis inwardly chuckles because now Harry must realize why Louis was so captivated by Harry’s chest a few minutes ago. It captures them speechless to see how much they’ve really grown just by the skin on their chests. It’s like cartographing a World map after the Americas were discovered; there’s so much new, uncharted territory, which is as exciting as it is terrifying because their World has just expanded in size. There’s so much to discover, but no longer are any continents missing. The full picture finally comes into view.  
“You alright, babe?” Harry looks up at him in awe.  
“I think I’m the luckiest person on the planet.” He says breathlessly.  
“That’d be my title, not yours.”  
“It can be both of our titles. Sharing is caring, and all.” Louis takes it a step further, a step he’s wanted to take for years.  
“I wanna share everything with you.”  
“Good, because you never had another option.” Louis leans down and kisses him ardently. He licks into Harry’s mouth and Harry opens his mouth wider, giving Louis more space to explore. Harry’s hands are searching every bump, edge, and curve of Louis’ torso, and normally Louis would feel extremely self-conscious if someone were combing over his body with such a fine-toothed comb. However, the way Harry does it makes him feel like he’s being worshiped. It’s not observing so much as it is admiring. It’s respectful, avid, and dirty. Harry’s hands are eager for more to touch like a dehydrated camel in the Sahara craves water. Louis moves their hips together, and before he fully comprehends what he’s doing, he’s grinding into Harry. They’re slow, leisurely movements of his hips, which Harry responds to by lightly biting down on Louis’ tongue. There are little tingling specks spreading throughout his dick. He feels himself and Harry hardening, and it’s glorious.  
Louis detaches their lips so he can begin to kiss down Harry’s chest. His fingers continuously tap on Harry’s belt in touches that are barely there and his mouth captures Harry’s top, left nipple. He runs his tongue over the nub and feels it harden. Harry gasps and tightens his legs around Louis’ calves. Louis feels his own heartbeat taking prominence in his dick.  
“Lou, you’re teasing.” Harrys says, clearly winded.  
“Mhmm.” Louis hums in agreement. He sucks hard on Harry’s nipple, getting a fairly high-pitched,  
“Ahhh – ” out of him. Louis moves over to his right nipple, repeating the process and letting his fingers travel downwards to his zipper, still tapping them in a wave from his pinky to his index finger. He can feel Harry’s bulge asking for permission to get out of the confinement of his pants. “Louis, please.”  
“Wait a bit longer. Deep breaths, babe.” Louis takes a quick lick at both of Harry’s smaller nipples, and then sticks out his tongue to lap a stripe down to Harry’s belly button while letting his nose dig into the skin. One glance up and he sees Harry’s nipples are pointed. Louis feels extremely content with himself.  
“You’re gonna kill me, I swear.”  
“You’ll survive.” Louis follows Harry’s happy trail with his mouth, loving the way Harry’s hairs lightly pass under his tongue. He’s finally at Harry’s pants, and holy shit his bulge is huge. Louis always knew Harry was packing heat, but he forgot just how big he really was when he got erect. The zipper flap is opening up by itself. “Pants feel a bit tight?” He teases, fully aware he’s driving Harry to the edge.  
“Uhh – ” Harry moans out, “Louis, c’mon.” Louis puts his mouth right on top of the bulge in Harry’s pants and mouths at the fabric. It’s becoming moist and wet, and Louis almost cracks when Harry’s dick twitches up into his mouth, begging to be released. “Lou.” Well, Harry’s moaning his name, and that’s all Louis really wanted, so he decides it’s okay to crack. He undoes Harry’s belt buckle, hearing Harry loudly exhale at that, and then unbuttons and unzips his pants. Harry’s dick visibly expands, but it’s still confined by his tight, black briefs. It’s a miracle it fits in there in the first place, honestly. Harry lifts his hips up, and Louis takes a hold of his pants and slides them down his legs. Harry kicks them off the rest of the way. “I wanna – love – same.” Harry huffs out. Louis has no idea what those words have anything to do with each other.  
“I need a phrase at the least, curly.” Harry’s cheeks are tinted red and his lips are hugely swollen from kissing. They’ve lost their pink tone and have been replaced with a shiny, ruby color. Louis can’t help himself and he has to lean down to kiss Harry once again. Their lips are scarily in sync with one another, even though this is the first time they’ve kissed in almost sixteen years. He doesn’t know how that happened, but he’s totally okay with it. Louis bites Harry’s lower lip with little force, but when he backs away and see’s Harry’s lips are even wetter and more scarlet than they were a minute ago, he feels extremely accomplished with himself.  
“Take off our underwear.” Harry gasps out. He looks so disheveled and thrown off his guard right now. Louis loves that Harry can be this way in front of him, and only him. “We should do it at the same time.” Louis is totally on board with that.  
“Okay.”  
“Wait – lemme – your shorts.” Harry anxiously grabs onto the waistband of Louis’ shorts and yanks them down. Louis wants to laugh at Harry’s zealousness, but he feels the same way with his dick straining against his own boxers. “Shit, wait, lube?” Louis’ stomach keels over. He wasn’t sure where exactly they were going, but Harry has requested lube, which means he’s requesting some form of sex. Which is what Louis wants, God, it’s his wet dream come true. He wants it more than anything else. But…it makes it so much more real when the words come out of Harry’s mouth. Louis’ reminded that this is really happening. It takes him off guard.  
“Oh, umm, yeah.” It comes out as shaky, which he doesn’t mean to do at all. Harry’s eyes widen,  
“Oh, no – we, we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”  
“No, I want to. I really, really, really want to.” He quickly reassures Harry. Harry nods,  
“So…what, ummm, what exactly do you want to do, or, like…umm…be?”  
“Top or bottom?” The words come out of Louis’ mouth and it hits him: holy shit, they’re seriously going to have sex. Wait – holy shit, they’re actually dating. Oh God, this feels like it…it doesn’t have any words to describe it.  
“I wanna do what you want.” Louis’ breath catches in his throat and his breathing becomes labored. This is a shit ton to take in. Harry’s eyebrows lift and his eyes gain a sudden alertness to them. He grips Louis’ arms, “You okay?” Louis takes a deep breath. Harry’s hands on him feel like an anchor, bringing Louis back down from whatever weird panic he’s in. Having sex with Harry and being in love with him and being his boyfriend…that’s nothing to be panicked about. It’s something to celebrate. It makes him happier than he’s ever been.  
“Yeah, fine. Really fine.” Harry’s head tilts sideways and a bit forward, his eyes are soft and relaxed, and he has a gentle smile.  
“I love you.” He says to Louis, voice laced with tenderness.  
“I love you too.” Harry pulls Louis down and kisses him without rush. It’s lengthy and passionate. It makes his heart skip multiple beats, and it makes his mind soar. Harry slowly pushes his tongue into Louis’ mouth, and that’s when Louis realizes it: there’s nothing to hold back anymore, and there’s nothing to hold it back with. He wants to let Harry in all the way. He’s always wanted that, and he’s always tried to give that to Harry, but he couldn’t until this very moment. Louis finally has the ability to act on it. Harry deserves to be let in, in all forms of the word. He’s wanted it since they were teenagers, and, now thinking about it, so has Louis. This is the moment. He can finally give back. Louis pulls off of the kiss, takes in a few of Harry’s breaths, and then whispers into Harry’s mouth: “I want you to top.” Harry grips the nape of Louis’ neck and nudges their noses together.  
“You sure?”  
“For once in my life, yeah. I wanna give you everything.”  
“I’ll give you everything.” Hearing those words makes Louis’ stomach twist and turn and jump and skip and fly. Then he pulls Louis in for a soft peck, which becomes two, then three, and the forth one is coming but Louis knows if he lets this go on, they’re going to get caught up in each other and it’ll be even more difficult to get up and find the necessary supplies. He stops right as their lips are ghosting each other.  
“What are your thoughts on condoms?”  
“Ummm…I mean, I’m clean.” Honestly, Louis wasn’t very worried, but it’s a relief to hear anyway.  
“Me too.”  
“So…”  
“No condom.” Louis bends down just a bit further, so when he talks, he talks onto Harry’s lips, “I wanna feel you.”  
“Then you’ll feel me.” Harry whispers onto Louis’ lips. A ball of heat gets stuck in the middle of Louis’ lungs, arousal inflaming all throughout Harry’s body. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on in his entire life.  
“Be right back.” Louis pecks him one more time and then backs away. He gets a full body view of Harry lying on his bed, and he’s about to get caught up in the sight, but then he notices Harry’s still wearing socks. Louis chuckles, “Take off the socks.”  
“Yes, sir.” He says in a mock-soldier voice. Louis lovingly rolls his eyes and then makes his way into his bathroom. The lube is in the mirror cabinet, and he’s going to open it when he takes a look at himself. He looks…different. A better sort of different. He wasn’t staring at a stranger in the mirror: he was looking at Louis. He’s not sure what’s going on, but his mind and body feel…joined. Louis can finally recognize Louis. His reflection is smiling at him, and he’s smiling at his reflection. Everything he’s feeling is cast onto his body, and he loves this new image. He appears to be…happy. And he feels happy. Louis looks like the Louis he’s always wanted to be – no, he looks like the Louis he’s always been. He’s in love, not only with Harry, but also, for the first time in his life, with himself.  
Louis is happy with being himself. And he’s never felt more alive.  
When he walks back into the bedroom with a bottle of lube, he see’s Harry with a hand over his bulge, obviously desperate in need for any sort of friction. The sight fills Louis with anticipation, and he’s honestly not sure how much longer he’ll be able to wait. He walks over to Harry without any hesitation, tossing the bottle of lube somewhere on the bed and placing his hands on top of Harry’s moving ones, stopping their motions and pressing down. Harry closes his eyes and lets out a filthy, “Uuuhh.” The sound goes straight to Louis’ dick and, yeah, he can’t wait any longer.  
“Lets get this off.” He tells Harry, pinching the thin fabric and rubbing it in between his thumb and middle finger.  
“You too. Same time.”  
“I know. Sit up, babe.” Harry does as he’s told and puts his hands on the tops of his briefs. Louis stands in front of him in the same position.  
“Down on three?” Louis giggles because it’s kind of funny how adamant Harry is about being on the same page. He understands it, though. They’re no longer bookends with a story between them, sitting on opposite ends of the shelf. Their love has read slowly, but it’s finally been inked on page, and they’re ready to write a new chapter. They’re both the pen and paper, the author and the words. They’re in control.  
“Is this a rocket launch?”  
“My rocket is about to launch into your deep space, so…” This time Louis actually laughs full-heartedly. It’s a shitty pun, it really is, but it’s so endearingly Harry, and so stupidly dirty, that Louis was screwed from the beginning. He always was.  
“Then lets start the countdown, space cadet.” Harry’s face lights up as he cackles. The look quickly turns into one of a child’s excitement on Christmas morning.  
“Okay, ready?” Louis nods. “Countdown with me.” Louis’ about to cock his hip to the side because this is bordering on outrageous, but he sees Harry’s lips forming the first syllable and enthusiastically jumps on board, not wanting to discourage Harry in this moment, or, well…ever.  
“Three…” their voices say together, “two…one.” They both pull down at the same time, and…  
“Houston, we have lift-off.” Louis quietly muses to himself. Harry’s cock is full and wide. It’s resting on Harry’s stomach, and is tinted this beautiful salmon pink color, and…long. It’s really long. Which, Louis remembers, Harry was always longer than he was girthy, but still. It’s an alluring sort of shock. And he wants his mouth on it right now.  
“Wow.” He hears Harry pronounce under his breath. Louis’ eyes are brought up to Harry’s, and he notices Harry isn’t only looking at Louis’ dick: his wide eyes are wandering all over Louis’ body, totally in awe. Louis has this notion that he should be feeling exceptionally self-conscious. He’s standing in front of Harry, totally bare with nothing to guard him. He’s put himself on display for Harry. The thing is, though, that Harry’s eating it up. He’s taking in Louis’ body like it’s the eighth wonder of the World. Louis thinks he should feel ill at ease and nervous. Instead, Harry looks at him like he paints nudes for a career, and Louis has the best body he’s ever seen. Louis crushes the initial notion and throws it into a shredder, because he doesn’t feel the way he thought he would, and he knows he won’t feel that way as long as he’s with Harry. Harry makes him feel safe, and comforted, and loved, and at home. “You’re…you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Louis’ heartbeat catches in his throat. He believes Harry, and he has no reason to doubt him. He wouldn’t have it any other way. Harry reaches his arms out. “Come here.” Louis walks forward, his feet softly padding along the hardwood floor. The tips of Harry’s fingers press lightly into Louis’ hips, and he grips tightly and pulls Louis in the rest of the way so he’s standing in between Harry’s spread out legs. Harry’s eyes are still roaming up and down Louis’ body. His grip is firm and secure. “You’re divine, Louis. Really, you are. Everything about you is spectacular.” Harry leans his head forward and he places chaste kiss after kiss after kiss on Louis’ stomach. Louis is physically bare and stripped down, but he doesn’t feel like it. He wants Harry to take every bit of himself, both emotionally and physically, because he’s never let anyone do that before. He’s never been able to do that before. He wants to give Harry the gift of taking something no one has ever received from him before. Harry deserves it. “It hurts my heart with how much I love you.” Harry tells him in a weak voice. Louis’ heart splits in two. He wants to give Harry one of the two halves. It’s always belonged to him anyway.  
Louis takes Harry’s face in his hands and moves his knees so they’re resting on the bed to either side of Harry’s legs. He’s successfully straddling him, and the way Harry’s looking at him feels like it’s too much. His mouth is in a slight smile, his eyebrows are sad, and his eyes look like they can imagine what the future will be by gazing into Louis’ eyes. Louis’ so emotionally affected by it, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He keeps running his hands up and down Harry’s face, trying to take in as much of his skin as he can.  
“You make me feel like I’m suffocating.” He tells Louis, and Louis understands what he’s describing. The love he has for Harry doesn’t fit in his body; it’s too much for one person to hold. It’s like trying to fit an elephant into a dog cage. It’s oozing out of Louis’ torn seams. This love feels like it was made for two people to carry. Louis suddenly understands that myth, the one where Zeus feared the power of the humans he created, who had four legs, four arms, and two heads, so he split them up; the lives of those two souls were condemned to an eternity of searching for their other half. Louis was never one for that type of legend, but right here, in this moment, it’s hard not to believe it. The power of the original humans rivaled the power of a God, so Zeus split them up. This feeling that he has with Harry, this divine power, well…who needs a God when they’re this powerful on their own?  
Louis decides right then that he believes in soulmates, and he knows he’s found his.  
“Then let go.” A spark of compassion pierces out of Harry’s eyes, and Louis knows he gets what Louis means. He uses all of his muscle to pull Louis in, and their lips attach in what can only be described as an outburst. His body feels enflamed. He’s consumed by Harry and love and boyfriend and soulmate. Louis doesn’t feel in control of his emotions, but it’s okay because he knows Harry isn’t either. With each touch of their tongues, they’re letting go, giving, and receiving. The kiss is as arousing as it is loving, and the feeling of being on fire travels down to his dick. He begins to swivel his hips around. Their dicks rub together, and Louis feels them both gasp into the kiss. He does it again, waves of goosebumps spreading down his arms and legs.  
“Love you.” Harry says into Louis’ mouth.  
“Love you.” Louis repeats. He keeps up the moves he’s making, until Harry uses his hands to hold his hips still. Harry takes his right hand off of Louis’ body, uses it to grab Louis’ left hand from his own face, and brings them down together to hold both of their cocks shaft to shaft. It’s a sudden shock and the new pressure makes Louis moan out a high-pitched gasp. Harry’s hand covers the entirety of their two members, his long fingers fully reaching around them. Then, Harry starts to move their hands up and down, and Louis has to break the kiss. He settles for biting into Harry’s shoulder, moaning a muffled, “Aaah, aaah – ” as the sparks of ember fly around the bottom of his stomach. Louis hears Harry spit, and there’s a new wetness between their cocks, making their jerking a bit smoother. The feel of their cocks sliding together is addicting. Harry spits again and speeds up their pace. He bites harder into Harry’s shoulder in approval. Their cocks are resting heavy against one another, leaning on each other like they depend on it.  
“Uuuuhh, Lou…feel so good together.” Louis lifts his mouth to kiss Harry. Their tongues feverishly move together in determination. Louis knows if this doesn’t end soon, there’s no way he’ll make it until they actually have sex. If it’s going to happen, it needs to start moving down that path now or else they’ll easily veer off course.  
“Babe, you gotta – do something else. I dunno how long I can last like this.”  
“Yeah – yeah.” Harry presses a tender kiss to Louis’ mouth while he moves his hand out of the grip and onto Louis’ back. Louis misses the movement, but he knows it’s going to be exchanged for another one, so he pushes himself through it. “Gonna lay you on your back, okay?”  
“Yeah.” Harry maneuvers them so he’s flipped Louis onto his back and is pushing him up to the head of the bed. “You’re beautiful.” He says like a passing by statement with the meaning of the Universe casually folded into it. Louis’ head runs into a pillow, and Harry stops moving them. He’s hovering over Louis, hands crafting unknown patterns all along Louis’ skin. “How do you wanna – ”  
“Looking at you.” Louis finishes for him. Harry nods and places a kiss on Louis’ stomach.  
“You need a pillow? Prop you up?”  
“Got it.” Louis reaches behind him and uses the pillow to shove underneath of his lower back. Harry’s nosing his way down Louis’ body, and Louis understands how he was driving Harry so insane earlier. It’s touching, but not quite, and Louis thinks if Harry doesn’t give him some sort of real connection in the next minute, he’ll scream.  
“So perfect. Always so perfect.” Harry’s placing barely-there kisses down Louis’ shaft. Louis is trying his hardest not to buck up, but at this angle, Harry looks devastatingly amazing. It’s Harry’s top profile that only Louis will get to see; how the way the hair on the top of his head looks when it’s disheveled, his long nose pointing downdowndown, and his eyes taking a glance up at Louis’ every so often. This view of Harry is reserved for him, and that alone drives him mad.  
“Harry.” Louis quietly moans out.  
“Say my name again.” He tells Louis, the vibrations spreading over his cock.  
“Harry.”  
“Louder.” Louis isn’t sure where Harry’s unwavering confidence came from, but he’s one hundred percent on board with it. Harry keeps moving down, his hands cupping Louis’ ass cheeks, beginning to spread them apart, and he’s nosing the bottom of Louis’ balls. Louis closes his eyes and gives into the feeling.  
“Harryyy.” He moans, a bit louder than last time.  
“One more time.”  
“Ha – ” Harry’s tongue is lapping at Louis’ rim. The sudden wetness shocks Louis, and he’s shouting: “Haarry!” Louis throws his head up and looks down. Harry’s face is burrowed into Louis’ ass, tongue swaddling around Louis’ rim, and he’s only using his right hand to put lube onto his fingers. Shit, he’s good at multitasking. Louis wants to push down and force Harry’s tongue into him, but he holds himself back. Harry knows what he’s doing. He spits into Louis’ hole and his tongue starts prodding in and out. The lack of pressure on his dick is seriously becoming a problem; it’s neglectfully lying on his stomach, throbbing to be touched. Louis’ temporarily distracted by the way his hole clenches around the tip of Harry’s tongue, as if it’s asking for more. Then, in a total change in pace, Harry dives into him. His tongue is slurping everything it gets a hold of. Like a knee-jerk reaction, Louis has to close his eyes because the feeling is too much. Harry’s tongue is making incessant circles inside of Louis’ hole, never missing a beat. It’s gut-wrenchingly pleasurable, and Louis gets lost in the motions. “Ooooh, Har – Harry. Oh God, fuck, more.” He pleads. Harry pushes his mouth in deeper so his nose is tucked into Louis’ crack and his tongue is secured in his hole. It’s so moist and his rim feels so ripe that Louis thinks he may cry. The sound of Harry slurping is obscene. It’s wet tongue devouring wet skin. Harry’s eating him out, and it’s easily one of the best experiences he’s ever had. His thigh muscles tighten up and he feels a bit of pre-cum escape the slit of his dick. He has no choice but to take grip of it, if only to relieve some of the pressure. Harry backs out, and Louis moans in protest. His eyes dart up to Louis’ dick, then to his eyes,  
“Not too much, okay?” He half asks, half orders in concern. “Just…hold it. Can you do that?” Louis’ not really paying attention to what Harry’s saying. He’s too focused on his swollen lips and how they’re that way because he just ate Louis out. He just ate Louis out without any warning. He did it willingly and with more enthusiasm than Louis thought was possible. Dear God, this man will be the death of him. “Lou? You in there?” Shit – he was staring. Yes, he can hold and not jerk himself off…hopefully. He really doesn’t want to make any gaurantees.  
“Yeah.”  
“Hold it in?”  
“Yeah. Hold. Got it.” Harry barely gives him a moment’s notice before pushing the top of his warm, lubed up index finger into Louis’ hole. “Aaaah! Christ, Harry!” Louis immediately tightens his grip on his dick as a heat wave passes through his entire body. Harry pushes in a bit further and Louis can’t contain himself from moaning. “Ahhhh, oh my God, aaaah.”  
“You sound so good right now.” Harry tells him, still inching his finger in deeper and deeper. The stretch starts to burn a bit, but Harry’s finger is in past his second knuckle and Louis is seriously struggling not to stroke himself. Harry stops moving his finger, and it’s weird, having something so small in him but feeling so crazed about it.  
“Move, Harry.” Louis growls out. He can’t help but be pushy. His finger feels misplaced when it’s not moving. And dammit, Louis just wants to be spread out.  
“Needy.” He see’s Harry wrap his left hand around his shaft and slowly pulse his hand up and down it. Louis’ going to go insane. He wraps his right leg around Harry’s back and hits it with his heel.  
“In me – move in me.” Harry doesn’t need to be told twice before he rotates his index finger in small circles. The new angle gives Harry more space to work in and it drives Louis insane. His tightens his leg around Harry and throws his head back, closing his eyes and trying to take a few deep breaths, but it’s not working all that well since all he’s inhaling are shallow gasps of air.  
“Like that?” Harry asks with a scratchy voice.  
“Yeah, babe. More of that.” Harry’s finger increases the diameter of the circle he’s drawing in Louis’ hole. There’s a new burn now, and as good as it feels, Harry needs to put on more lube because everything is feeling too dry. “Lube, Haz…you need more.”  
“Shit – yeah.” Harry’s finger removes from Louis’ hole, and he can hear Harry putting on more lube, but right now his eyes are still closed and he’s running his thumb up and down his cock, giving it that little sensation it needs. Harry’s fingers are back, his index and middle finger side by side with lube dripping down them, slowly tracing around Louis’ hole. His feet begin to tap in anticipation. “You good for two or no?” Honestly, no, he doesn’t think he’s ready, but he damn well wants to attempt it.  
“Just try.”  
“Tell me if you want me to back out, okay?” Jesus Christ Harry needs to stop talking.  
“Yeah, yeah, just fucking go – please. Now.” His eyelids are slammed shut with all of his might. Every passing second feels like a fucking hour. He’s waiting…and waiting…and waiting…and – “Aaaah! Fucking Christ!” His head pops up and his eyes snap wide open. His legs go numb and he stops breathing for a good two seconds. Harry’s fingers force Louis’ hole open as they slide in. They easily pass the rings of muscle like a monster truck passes over a pebble. It’s forceful and unforgiving, it’s unexpected but welcomed, and it’s tight but not nearly enough. He doesn’t ask before spreading his fingers out and scissoring them. “Mmm, oh God…ahhh, fuck.”  
“So good, babe…so fucking good.” He moans out. “Wish you could see yourself, Lou.” Harry twists his fingers around, still opening and closing them at a pace that should be illegal. “Look so perfect like this. Always look perfect.” Louis knows he must look outrageous. He’s spread out under Harry whimpering for,  
“More, more, pleasepleaseplease more.” Harry crooks his fingers up one time, making Louis tense his feet upwards, his back arching off of the bed, and exhale pure fire. The feeling is addicting. Louis finds himself pushing down on Harry’s fingers. The pressure grows exponentially, as does the stretch. Harry curls his fingers up once again and – oh God. A tingling sensation rings throughout his body. He quivers in stimulation. That’s his prostate. “Ah – ah – ah! There, Harry – there.” Harry angles and hits the spot dead on once again. Louis grips the sheets underneath him as if he’s dangling from a building and holding on for his life. His words can’t function properly. Instead, he’s breathing out a high-pitched, “Ah, ah, ah, ah!” God, he can’t believe they never did this when they were teenagers. If only Louis knew back then what he was missing out on.  
“Louis – Oh God, Louis. Love your voice. Love your sounds.” Harry places a kiss in the space between Louis’ balls and his hole. Louis squirms into the touch and whimpers. “Open your eyes. Look at what you do to me.” Louis’ not sure if he can, but he channels some sort of inner force he didn’t know existed and cracks opens his eyelids. He sees Harry in between his legs, his stout cock heavy on his stomach, angry red and leaking. The sight pushes Louis closer to the edge, and if they seriously don’t get to this soon, Louis’ going to come from this position alone.  
“Another, Harry, another.” He begs, knowing that if Harry doesn’t stretch him out a bit further, his cock certainly won’t fit in.  
“Can you take another?” Harry asks, clearly a bit panicked.  
“Dunno, but if you don’t stretch me out more, that thing isn’t gonna fit in.”  
“Don’t come yet.” Dear Jesus this is getting fucking frustrating. Louis’ not sure he can do that if Harry keeps moving as slow as he is. He kicks his heel into Harry’s back.  
“I fucking know, babe. Put in another finger before I do.”  
“M’kay.” Thankfully, Harry adds in his ring finger. It’s a rough fit, but it’s completely necessary. Harry stops focusing on fingering Louis, opting instead to solely use his fingers a means for spreading him open. In a way, Louis’ grateful for it because the less Harry presses against his prostate the longer he’ll last, but he still craves it. He gets himself through it by telling himself the next time it gets hit, it’ll be by Harry’s dick. It helps. “Think that’s enough?” Harry asks after a minute or so, Louis really doesn’t know, he has no comprehension of time right now. Honestly, Louis still feels tight, but he knows Harry will be gentle and would stop if Louis told him to.  
“For now, yeah.”  
“You sure? I can keep going.”  
“No, just…you. I want you.”  
“You already have me.” Louis knows he means it in the most loving way possible, and he appreciates it, really, he does, but if they don’t get to the chase, Louis will be climaxing without Harry’s cock.  
“Your dick, Harry. In me. Now.” Maybe he’s being pushy, but it’s for the best.  
“Love you like this, all laid out and needy. Drives me insane.” With one more stretch of his fingers, Harry pulls them out. The sudden emptiness is very disconcerting to Louis’ entire body.  
“I’m about to go insane.”  
“I’ve got you I’ve got you.” Harry reassures him. He tugs the side of the pillow Louis’ currently propped up on, and Louis hoists his body up so Harry can pull it out from underneath him. When his back hits the covers, it dawns on him how sweaty he is. His skin sticks to the sheets underneath his spine and thighs. The back of his neck is wet, as is his forehead, and his hair is damp from the moisture. Harry picks up Louis’ right hand and slowly places a trail of sweet kisses up his arm. It astonishes Louis how Harry has enough composure to do this. It also makes Louis feel so, so, so loved, even though he’s so, so, so hard it’s hurting. Now, Harry’s kissing his shoulder, while simultaneously lifting Louis’ head up and placing the pillow beneath it. Louis runs his hands through Harry’s hair. He gives Harry a quick head massage, eliciting a “mmm” out from his throat. It’s really never ending care from Harry, and Louis’ never felt luckier in his life. “Love you.” Harry bites into his shoulder. Louis shudders in awe at all the things he’s feeling at once.  
“Kiss me.” Louis pleads. Harry obliges, hitching their lips together in a closed-mouthed caress. When he backs away, he whispers,  
“Gonna make love with you now.” Which makes Louis gasp out a half-assed chuckle.  
“Who even says that?”  
“Me. To you. Right now.” And okay, fine, sure, he’ll let the dorkiness pass because he’s too aroused right now to point out just how weird that sounds. Harry gets off of him and squirts out lube onto his hand to coat his dick with. The sight leaves Louis speechless, so he shuts his eyes and places an arm over his face in a quick, not so efficient attempt to even out his breathing and cool down a bit. He feels Harry place a hand on his stomach and ask, “You okay?” Okay is a weird term to describe his emotions when they’re about to have sex, but once again, he’s too distracted to pick out another word.  
“Mhmm.” He musters out. Louis feels Harry spread his legs open as he crawls in between them, kneeling right in the ‘V’ of Louis’ body.  
“Open your eyes, Lou.” Louis takes in one more breath and follows Harry’s request, moving his arm off of his face in the process. Harry’s kneeling right in front of him. He uses his hands to pick up Louis’ legs and bend them, placing his feet so they’re resting against the back of Harry’s thighs. Louis uses his left hand to grab onto Harry’s right bicep, and his right hand to rest on top of the left side of Harry’s chest. “This alright?”  
“Yeah.” Harry has a tight hold on Louis’ hips. He brings him closer, and closer, and closer until the head of Harry’s dick is nudging against Louis’ hole. Louis’ breath hitches: this is it. They’re about to have sex.  
“If I hurt you, let me know and I’ll pull out.” Louis nods vehemently. “Relax.” Louis tries to calm himself as much as possible, but his bones feel rigid and his muscles feel tensed. He tries to force them to melt down into the mattress. It works, somewhat. “Deep breath on three, okay?” Louis shuts his eyes for a split second, then nods and opens them again. “One……two……three.” Louis takes a huge breath in the same time Harry pushes into Louis and –  
Oh.  
Oh, wow.  
Just…wow.  
It’s when he breathes out that he really feels it.  
The burn is kind of excruciating. Whether that’s excruciating pain or pleasure has yet to be determined. Harry’s cock must be halfway into him and it feels…like a combination of Heaven and insanity, really. He doesn’t know whether to cry out in satisfaction or scream in discomfort. Harry straightens out his spine and adjusts himself so he can really push in. What ends up coming out of Louis’ mouth is a strangled inhalation of “Aaaah – ” and when Harry moves out a bit, Louis exhales an “Oah”. He brings down the hand on Harry’s chest to his dick, because his dick needs something – anything. Harry moves in again, and Louis moans out an “Aaaah”, but then Harry takes a hold of Louis’ knees and pushes his bent up legs towards his chest so Louis’ body is folded in half. Harry moves his own knees in further, closer to Louis’ body, and his dick is in much deeper than it was last time. He forgets to breathe, so when Harry draws out then presses into him again, Louis feels himself heave, his body lifting as he tries to take in any sorts of gulps of air. He lets out an “Ooo-ah” and unintentionally closes his eyes. Harry’s working his thrusts up to a fluid pace where he’s gyrating his hips into Louis from bottom to top. Louis’ head turns from to its left side, to its right side, and back to the left side again. He’s lost control, and, for once in his life, he’s fine with not having it.  
Harry moves his arms to rest with fists on either side of Louis’ torso. He’s leaning over Louis, and his thrusts are getting shorter and faster. The feeling is no longer uncomfortable, per se; it’s just becoming a part of him. Louis opens his eyes. Harry’s are focused solely on Louis’, and his bottom lip is tucked up in his mouth in concentration. Harry moves his right hand to rest on top of Louis’ heart, and with a newfound gusto, Harry’s thrusts get even deeper. Louis’ breathing heavily now, and he feels sweat forming on his chest. His heart is pounding, banging, screaming onto his rib cage. Harry hits some nerve inside of Louis, which sets off a tidal wave of hot-chills throughout his body. Goosebumps form like a domino effect down Louis’ legs to his toes and up Louis’ torso to his forehead and nose. He’s unabashedly moaning between each inhalation now, and he doesn’t care.  
“Aahhh – oooah – uhhhh – aoohh – mmm!” His cock is throbbing, so he strokes himself with the little strength he has. Harry places his other hand onto Louis’ torso, so he’s cupping each side of Louis’ chest. Louis reaches behind with his left hand, hoping – praying for anything to grab on to. At first he tries for the headboard, but that’s too high up and too far away. He feels another pillow, but the fabric doesn’t give him much to pull. Louis aborts that mission and reaches down, opting to clutch on to the sheets instead. And thank whatever gods may be that he did, because it’s in that moment Harry uses his hands to grip the underside of Louis’ thighs and press them back on to Louis’ torso, giving him more leverage to thrust at and moaning out a gutteral,  
“Uhhhhh – ” Which sends a ball of heat through Louis’ stomach and groin. He moans out a weak, high-pitched,  
“Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh – ” Harry leans further down into Louis’ body, his dick incessantly diving in and out of Louis’ hole. His head drops down and his hair falls into Louis’ face. The strands brush back and forth from Louis’ forehead to his mouth. Harry isn’t looking in his eyes anymore; he’s looking down at where he’s entering Louis. The thought along with the feel of Harry’s dick actually in him has Louis panting for air. He strokes himself faster, and the combination of the two actions has him throwing his head back.  
“Louis – ” Harry moans out. Louis moves his legs up to rest his heels on Harry’s shoulders. Harry thrusts even more urgently. Louis hears the sound of skin slapping against skin. Then he feels Harry’s balls start hitting his ass, signifying Harry is in as deep as he can be. They’re both biting their bottom lips; Louis looks at Harry with a plea for him to hit his prostate, and holy fuck, does Harry deliver. He hits that sweet spot on queue and it sends Louis’ body into a fit of spasms. His legs jerk into the air kicking at nothing in particular, just begging for some sort of relief. His toes curl downwards. His chest caves in on itself and he swears his skin shrinks for a moment.  
“Ohhhhh, uohhh, God, yeahhh – Harry – uhhhh – ” He moans out. Harry hits the spot again, then again, and again, and Louis feels an overwhelming desire to just say something efficient. He cranes his head up to Harry and whispers out to the best of his ability, “I love you.” Harry brings his head down, touching their noses for a split second then kissing him with more passion than Louis knows what to do with. They physically can’t kiss for long because their breathing is so strained, so they settle for chaste, second long, open-mouthed kisses. When Harry backs up the third time he tells Louis,  
“I love you.” And Louis feels the need to reiterate again,  
“I love you too.” Harry slants back down and they kiss one more time. Harry’s head takes a permanent place hovering above Louis’. Louis’ face is covered in Harry’s hair. Their breathing is mixed together, and honestly, Louis can’t tell where his breaths start and where Harry’s breaths end. “Speed up.” He tells Harry, and Harry does exactly that. It has Louis moaning out like earlier, “There we go, oh yeah, oh yeah, fuck, oh yeah – ” That only encourages Harry more. He connects their lips in one more kiss before unforgivingly pounding into Louis.  
“Uhhhhh, uhhhhh, uhhhhh – ” Harry moans out. Louis feels his climax coming. Shocks are spreading out from his dick and vibrations are unfurling from his prostate. He knows this is it. “Gonna come, gonna come, gonna come.” He chants out.  
“Please.” Harry begs him. And that’s it.  
Louis feels his body jolt out and arch off the bed. He screams in pleasure. When he breathes out, he feels like a cat with its fur sticking up and claws out; every single hair on his body stands up in the bombshell, and all of his muscles tighten up. His hole squeezes around Harry’s cock, trying to close shut and keep it in there. His head is somewhere in between finite and infinity. Everything goes blank as his eyes roll back into his head. Louis’ dick literally feels like it’s exploding, cum erupting out of the slit. It shoots onto his chest and Harry’s.  
“Oh God, Lou, Louuuu, fuck, Louis – ” And then Harry stilts up and stops moving. A warm liquid rushes into Louis’ hole. Harry’s cumming in him. Oh God, that’s just…wow. Louis has Harry’s cum in his ass. Harry’s arms give out and his body collapses on top of Louis’. He tucks his head into the space between Louis’ shoulder and neck. Their two chests stick together. They stay in that position for a few long, silent moments. Louis’ breathing begins to even out, and he feels Harry’s do the same. Their chests push against each other with each breath. He lets his hand come up and run through Harry’s damp hair. Louis’ in awe of the man on top of him. He pulls Harry’s hair to lift his head up. Their eyes connect together. Harry’s eyelids are half-lidded, and he looks totally spent and dazed. Harry’s not fully back from his orgasm, and he looks beautiful like that.  
“C’mere.” Louis pulls Harry’s head down and they rest their foreheads on each other. Whenever they blink, their eyelashes flutter against one another. It kind of tickles, but it feels light, airy, and bewildered, just like coming down from a climax. Harry’s a heaven-sent, Louis’ sure of it. He makes Louis feel adored in a way he’s never felt before. He’s full of gentle, fond, passionate affection. He dotes on Louis like a devout worshiper. His touches are long and attentive. He looks at Louis like he’s his savior, undyingly grateful and happy. Louis knows he looks at Harry the same way. “Love you.” Harry rubs their noses together and huffs out a warmhearted smile. Happiness surges throughout Louis’ body.  
“Love you too.”  
Louis knows they both mean it more than they’ve meant anything else in their entire lives.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any questions, write a comment and I'll answer it :)


End file.
